Mechanical (A Steampunk fanfic)
by Bat13SJx
Summary: The year is 1887. Mr. Fredbear, is the proud owner of a toy shop where he crafts mechanical toys and sells them to children. Everything changes when detectives come to talk to Mr. Fredbear about his toys, especially the big ones in the back; a witness saw one of them murder a child late at night. Later, more children are murdered/missing, and Mr. Fredbear is the prime suspect.
1. Chapter 1: The Mechanical War

**Mechanical**

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Chapter 1: The Mechanical War

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 _Theodore Fredrick Berenson Jr's diary:_

 _The War was a terrible time for anyone who had lived through it. I was the unlucky few who had encountered it, and had survived it. For me, the war was both the worst, and yet the best experience of my life. There are some memories I wish I could just erase completely from my mind, but there are some I cherish almost every night. For without them, I would not have become the man I am now today..._

 _It was a cold winter in the middle of December of 1853._ _I have never seen the lakes freeze over so fast; nor have I seen so much snow fall in one night. My breath seemed to fog up the glass as I stared out into the dark, snowy wonderland from the war hospital I was assigned to. I remembered hearing the cannons being fired off in the distance, like thunder._

 _I was eighteen at the time. A student learning to become a doctor, since it was what my father wanted me to do. It was not what I wanted to do, but my father knew what was best for me, and his family. Then the War happened, and I was instantly taken out of my classes and immediately having to treat almost every patient._

 _It was the worst two months of my life. The war hospital I was in was packed with soldiers from being out on the battlefield._ _Rows and rows of countless cot beds, once crisp white, now drenched in blood. Hours of sleepless nights were lost as I was taken from patient to patient by the nurses, treating them as best as I could. I was not even a doctor, I didn't even have my degree or Phd;, but during that time, they were running low on doctors since most were taken out by The War._

 _The days were bitter cold where we were located somewhere in England I was not familiar with. The days got worse in the winter, and the patients began to die from the lack of blood, starvation, diseases, or shock. Too many bodies had died during that winter, and to this day I still grieve and ask for forgiveness for not being able to save everyone. It was a heavy burden for me, one I couldn't stand for any longer._

 _Fortunately, luck turned itself around two days before Christmas Day. Christmas came early for everyone, and it wasn't Father Christmas who delivered the amazing gifts, but a scientist, by the name of Luther Devol. He was an elderly man who wore all black, with black gloves and a pair of smoke tinted goggles strapped to his black top hat; and had dove white hair sticking out in all directions from under it. He came running to us from the entrance of the hospital, with bits of snow falling behind him from his shoulders. The other doctors seemed to have been expecting him when I saw them all rush towards him. The doctors stopped before they crashed into the man, and began walking with him over to where I was. I was in the middle of wrapping the bloody stump of a soldier who lost his arm when he pushed his friend out of the way to not get hit by the blast._

 _He screamed and cried out in agony, pleading for me to just kill him so he wouldn't have to endure the pain any longer. I refused to do such an act, as I tried giving him some medicine from one of the crates near me. We were running low on medical supplies fast, and there was not much I could do. I knew in a couple of days, this man would be dead, and buried with all the other bodies just a good twenty feet away from the war hospital._

 _The man in black asked me politely to move out of the way once he came to where I was. I did as I was told and moved to the right. The man began explaining to the other doctors his recent discovery as he placed his big black bag onto the small table as he began pulling out the contents from within._

 _I watched in awe as he began pulling out items I never recognized. The light in the lamp next to him flickered, causing our dark shadows to dance across the white walls of the war hospital. Over us, I heard the familiar sounds of the dirigibles flying overhead. I glanced away from the scientist for just a second as I looked over through my smoke tinted goggles at the iced over window._

 _I assumed that even in this weather it was dangerous to be flying one of those ghastly contraptions, but there they were; bigger than life as they shadowed the lands. The dirigibles were made of metal, lifted by the power of steam and wind. They were brand new to the world, and were already being used as weapons for the war. The giants reminded me of whales with mechanical wings. I dearly wish to fly one of the mechanical beasts. To be able to soar away and never return; but unfortunately I was afraid of heights...even to this day, I could never muster the courage to step foot into one of those machines._

 _The soldier's cries snapped me out of my thoughts as I turned back and watched the scientist pull out a strange item that I had never seen before, and instantly caught my interest. The item was slender looking, but still very sturdy. It was a little longer than the length of my arm. It was mostly made of metal, and thin copper wires and thick black wires. A clock, and a small pump, and other items I couldn't recall were all wrapped by twelve brass wires. A brass metal ball rotated slightly, acting as a joint as it connected a smaller piece to it. The metal workings were incredible. The metals were different elements, and were pieced together in a way that was more complicated than the inner workings of a clock._

 _"What is it?" I remember hearing one of the doctors ask the scientist. Devol turned the piece around in his hand. "The future," the scientist replied. As he did, I finally was able to see the item correctly from where I stood. It was a metal arm. No one spoke as the scientist picked up a syringe that he grabbed from his bag. The syringe was filled with a glowing green liquid that seemed to make the place uneasy; but no one said a word as the scientist injected the substance into the soldier's bandaged stump that was once his arm. The soldier winced and gasped, then gradually stopped screaming. The scientist got to work while the doctors and I watched from where we stood, too speechless to say or do anything. I watched in fascination, not letting any of the dirigibles or the sounds of the cannons distract me from what I knew was going to change everything._

 _The scientist worked fast and delicately. His hands were skilled and knew how to correctly operate his own invention. Once it was secured on the soldier's arm, the scientist took a step back as he pulled out a round bowl filled wit has murky water. Inside the glass orb of water was an eel. it swam around inside the bowl like an ugly grey-green ribbon. wrapping itself over and over. The scientist told us that the eel had a special electrical charge in its body that was a new source, better than steam._

 _He set the bowl with the eel down, then pulled out a small black box. The small black box had a knob, and a couple metal switches from the top surface. From the black box, a couple wires ran from it and connected to the mechanical arm and ends that were dipped in the water bowl the eel was in. The scientist pulled out a wooden stick from his coat and gently stirred the eel in his bowl. the eel opened its mouth from the side of the murky glass and swam with the stick. Once he was done, the_ _scientist flipped a switch and began rotating the dial on the box. A small humming sound began to fill the room as small white sparks popped from the box. The scientist turned the knob even more, giving more power. The soldier jolted and twitched in the process, looking down at his new mechanical arm._

 _The scientist asked for the soldier to move his mechanical arm. The soldier's eyes flickered over to the scientist, then back to his new arm. His body was half raised up by his tense body, refusing to relax. The soldier stared at the arm, then his bandaged stump of flesh that was his own. He moved it ever so slightly. Nothing worked. It went on for what seemed like hours. The atmosphere seemed to thicken as I stared at the arm, holding my breath._

 _The soldier tried moving the arm. Over and over, the scientist would tell him what to do as he tried giving the mechanical arm more power. Finally, it happened. The soldier moved the remains of his real arm, causing the mechanical arm to move as well. No one said anything as they stared wide eyed. The arm moved first in jerky movements, but then gradually began to move freely. My eyes were wide in shock, and my mouth hung open like the eel's._

 _God's work. Being able to create a working arm made of shaped metal, and inner workings to allow the_ _phalanges, joints and bend in the elbow to move so fluidly and gracefully; as if it were a normal human appendage. I was awestruck by the craftsmanship and the way the workings moved and clicked together; all working as a team. The soldier was taken away by the doctors. It happened so fast I didn't even realize it until it was too late, but it didn't matter. I still couldn't stop thinking about the mechanical arm in my head. It was incredible. Impossible. The work of God. A huge step decades ahead, into the future; and I_ _was able to witness this with this with my own eyes._

 _That was when it became known as The Mechanical War. The rapid development of creating mechanical ligaments was soon in the workings. Almost every soldier who had been wounded was equipped with a mechanical limb and brought back into the battlefield. More and more scientists, metal workers and eel dealers were brought in. New ideas were brought in. Stronger metals, thicker wires, elements, and every possible item was crafted and used. Eventually eels weren't the source of power anymore. The mechanical pieces were stronger, more durable, and were near indestructible. Soldiers became super soldiers, and were able to do more than any normal human could do. The wounded became the strongest on the field, wiping out the enemy faster than they could recruit more soldiers._

 _The very next year, the enemy surrendered, and we won. The world began to slowly collect itself from the war. I arrived home in late November when the leaves had turned a golden brown; reuniting with my parents and younger siblings. Unfortunately, even in the safe environment of my home, after it had ended, the war seemed to have followed me home. I was haunted by nightmares of screaming soldiers as they bled to death in front of me. I would wake up gasping and covered in sweat. For years the war continued to haunt me, but I never let it consume me. Instead I tried looking at the positive side of the war, and began focusing on it._

 _It was during that moment in time of the war I was inspired, a_ _nd with it, my imagination grew, as well as myself. I had changed into a different man. I no longer followed orders from my father, I became who I wanted to be. I left home, found a place to work and never stopped. Over the years I learned how things connected and worked together. Learning the inner workings of clocks. I started out small. Making little wind up toys. The wind up toys fascinated me, and soon inspired me to open up my own shop. Soon I was making and fixing toys for children. Seeing the smiles on all of their little faces helped me continue making toys. During the days I kept my little shop open, and during the night, I worked on my own bigger projects. I advanced in my learning and was able to make mechanical arms and legs. Then I was building more than just mechanical limbs. I was connecting them to metal torsos. Then soon was creating things that others would consider the forbidden work of God. I was creating mechanical beings..._

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	2. Chapter 2: Mr Fredbear's Shop

**Mechanical**

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Chapter 2: Mr. Fredbear's Mechanical Toy Shop

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 _September 7, 1887..._

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Mr. Fredbear yawned in exhaustion as he grabbed a small screwdriver from his workbench and began to tighten a screw on one of his small robot toys' back. Mr. Fredbear sat at his messy workdesk in the back of his toyshop. It was almost six in the morning. One of his wooden cuckoo clocks, that hung above his messy workdesk, went off seven minutes early and cooed five times before going back into its home. A couple of papers with ink drawings of his recent toys fell from his work desk, causing a couple screws to fall as well.

Wooden shavings, metal arms, torsos, paint bottles, jars filled with paint and water, dust, glitter, wooden heads and other assorted items were seen everywhere; in boxes, on shelves dripping in paint. Nails, bolts, screws, and buttons sat waiting in small wooden boxes or dusty glass jars near Mr. Fredbear's arm. Rolls and spools of twine, string, and ribbons tumbled down from high shelves and curled around the wooden legs of Mr. Fredbear's stool. Carving tools hung in a row on their own wooden rack. Scissors of different sizes were placed in a tin can near the edge of the work station.

The back of his shop where Mr. Fredbear worked was small and narrow, but very long as it went to the far back into the darker area with more boxes of supplies and metal appendages. The whole place looked like a hurricane went through it. There was not much of a ceiling as shafts of yellow morning light came through the wooden rafters, and a huge collection of marionettes hanging from thin white strings, either finished, or unfinished. Some with painted faces, others just with blank wooden faces. Some had elaborate hand sewn Victorian outfits on, others were wooden and bare.

Mr. Fredbear shifted in his seat and stretched his sore arm out. He had stayed up all night working on his toys. His toys consisted mostly of little mechanical creatures, all with complicated inner workings similar to a clock. The toys resembled copper and silver colored metal animals, like little bears, bunnies, and little kids; adorned with buttons, little top hats, and bowties. Gears clicked and moved from within their chests. Keys rotated slowly from their backs as they moved their arms and legs. Some of them had glass domes on their stomachs to show the inner workings that made them move.

Mr. Fredbear placed the one he was working on, and picked up another one that looked like a little cat. He turned it over and checked its eyes. Its' eyes blinked slightly off. One blinked faster than the other. Mr. Fredbear took another tool and began tinkering with it for a little while till the eyes began to blink in unison.

Each of Mr. Fredbear's metal toys' eyes were round with metal frames and had small round glass in them that protected the real eye inside that acted as rotating shutters. Once opened, the eyes had lights in them that helped see in the dark, and acted as nightlights for the children who bought from him. The toys were more than just a wind up toy. Mr. Fredbear's toys could walk on their own and interact with children as if they were real people. They varied in all sizes. The smallest were only a foot and a half tall and were able to speak a couple of words. Some of them even played little songs as lullabies for the younger children.

Mr. Fredbear stretched before standing up to crack his back. A couple unpainted marionette dolls swayed gently when his head nudged them. Near him was a wooden beam that supported the heavy rafters tangled in the marionettes and puppets. Strings of beads, fake flowers, heavy ribbons, and puppet heads adorned the column and the others further back; an assortment of knick- knacks he had gathered and collected over the years from different places he had visited and traveled to. Of course, that was many years ago.

Mr. Fredbear was now in his early fifties. Almost fifty three. He wore a yellow colored open long work vest over a white buttoned up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His pants were black, and were stuffed into oil smudged white socks. His scuffed up black shoes were spattered with bits of paint and wood dust. His tired, baggy eyes were framed with oval glasses. His graying hair stuck out in all directions. His stomach stuck out in front of him. Some of the children actually had called him Father Christmas once in a while when he had let his beard grow out. In some cases, he liked being called Father Christmas from the children. He was happy to bring joy to the children in the small town he lived in.

Mr. Fredbear went to the small grey colored kitchen that was crammed in the small corner of his shop. A little mechanical coffee bot in coffee stains sat on the little stove top. Its head was down as if it were sleeping. Mr. Fredbear lit a match and ignited the small candle that sat inside the little mechanical creature's chest. Once the candle began to burn, bubbling the small round glass of water inside, it created steam, thus awakening the little coffee bot. The bots eyes lit up as it silently moved its arms to grab a cup near it and prepared the coffee. Mr. Fredbear sat down, just as a little mechanical bear came waddling over and handed him a newspaper. Mr. Fredbear smiled and patted the top of its head.

"Thank you, Thomas," he told the small mechanical bear, before watching it waddle back to its home near the door; its little feet making little metallic tapping sounds against the hard wooden floor as it left. Mr. Fredbear sighed again as he rubbed his tired red eyes.

"Hi," said a voice near him. Mr. Fredbear stopped rubbing his eyes and turned to the figure that stood near his seat. He smiled and chuckled a little. "Well, hello to you too, Balloon Boy," he responded back. The four foot tall figure laughed a metallic laugh in response.

One somewhat finished round metal human looking child stood near the edge of Mr. Fredbear's workshop. The metal child wore a red and blue striped fabric coat, with big white buttons going down the sides. His silk fabric pants ballooned out a bit, and were tied to the tops of his legs. His thin legs were painted to look like tights. The boy had a round face that was a light colored copper. His eyes were glassy with metal frames that held his blue eyes. The child grinned with a set of metal teeth. In his hand, he held a huge metal balloon. The metal boy once stood outside the shop to invite guests in, but a couple of weeks ago, a couple of unruly boys thought it would be fun to throw rocks at the metal creature.

Mr. Fredbear was able to scare the boys off, then help the round metal mechanical boy back into his shop to fix. The metal boy's body was somewhat damaged. Unfortunately, one of the rocks hit the metal balloon boy's voice box, destroying the dialogue the boy used to say. Now every so often, the metal balloon boy would say "Hi," followed by some laughter.

A small ding went off when the robot stopped making the coffee. Mr. Fredbear reached over and grabbed the white cracked mug the little coffee bot had just poured for him. Mr. Fredbear took the steaming mug to his lips and gently blew the steam away before taking a sip. He smiled and exhaled as he let the warmth of the coffee flow through him, warming his bones up. He took another sip and closed his eyes, leaning his head back. He soon started to fall asleep. He slept on the chair for almost forty minutes, but then woke himself up when he began to snore. He turned his head to the window to the right of him over the stove and saw that the sun was coming up and over the rooftops of the buildings in the town.

After he was done, he got up and got ready to open up. He went over and flipped the open sign over in front of the display where a huge glass window stood. The huge window stared out to the cobblestone streets and brick buildings of the town. A horse and carriage rode by, just as Mr. Fredbear reached around the display and flipped the sign. The word _Open_ was written in fancy black cursive writing. Then he began going around, straightening some of the mechanical dolls and wiping dust away from their eyes and dome shaped heads. When he was done, he sat back down and closed his eyes for a second.

Mr. Fredbear's senses instantly woke up when he heard the small brass bell ring from the entrance of his shop. He briskly walked to the front and greeted his customers with a smile from behind the counter. "Good morning, gentlemen! Welcome to my shop! You interested in anything you see?" he asked them. Two men walked into the shop, their polished lack shoes clacking against the tile floor. Both of the men wore the same black coat and top hats. Their hair were also cut the same way and were dark brown. The only difference was that one was tall, and the other was short.

The two looked around the shop for a minute before turning to Mr. Fredbear at the cash register.

"Good morning Mr. Fredbear, I am detective Brown, this is detective Jackson," The tall detective said, revealing his badge. The short one, known as Jackson, pulled out his badge and showed the old toymaker as well. Mr. Fredbear blinked in surprise. "Oh...uh...what can I do for you today gentlemen?" he asked them, trying to not sound nervous.

The tall investigator picked up one of Mr. Fredbear's small mechanical toys that sat on the small shelf in front of him. He examined it, turning it over in his hands before speaking. "We want to talk about your toys...specifically the ones in the back..." Detective Brown said.

Mr. Fredbear felt his smile disappear. He didn't have to turn around to see which toys the investigators were talking about. "...Uh...W-what about? If you are wanting to buy them, I assure you, as I tell everyone else, they are not for sale."

Detective Brown looked up at Mr. Fredbear as he put the toy carefully back in its place. "We are not interested in buying. We only want to talk about something that happened last night," he explained. Mr. Fredbear stared at the two black clad investigators. "What? D-did something happen?" he asked nervously. Jackson adjusted the black top hat that sat on his head before speaking. "Don't worry, Mr. Fredbear. You are not under arrest. We are trying to solve a crime that had been committed late last night," he explained.

Mr. Fredbear didn't say anything for a moment as he stared at the two investigators in confusion. "What does this have to do with my toys?" he asked. The tall investigator gestured to the door that opened to the back of Mr. Fredbear's shop. "May we come in? We will explain everything, if you give us permission to enter and look around," he said. Mr. Fredbear stared at them for a moment, then nodded his head. "Come in," he said.

When the two investigators passed by through the door, Mr. Fredbear quickly walked over to the front of the shop, turning the sign back around, and revealing the word _Closed_ in fancy black cursive writing _._

When Mr. Fredbear came back and walked through the door, he saw the investigators already looking around at his workbench and examining all of his unfinished projects. Jackson jumped when Balloon Boy said "Hi," to them. Mr. Fredbear tried to hide a smile as he walked past them and sat down at his work bench. He gestured to the two metal stools near him. "Take a seat," he offered. The two investigators didn't sit, but thanked Mr. Fredbear for the offer.

"We were hoping you could help us solve a case," started Detective Brown. Mr. Fredbear clasped his worn hand's together. "I'll try my best. Though I would like to hear the whole story. I want to know what this has to do with my toys," he said. Jackson nodded his head. "Late last night, we were woken up by this man who had been out walking. He was shouting and screaming that he had just seen a murder." Mr. Fredbear nodded and listened as the inspector's story began to unravel before him.

"Apparently the witness saw one of your big toys wandering the streets late last night. The witness said he recognized it as one of your toys and decided to follow it, curious to see where it was going. The mechanized toy came upon a place where there were children near an old abandoned building. The witness said that they must have been homeless children because of the way they were dressed. The toy began to dance and sing when it came upon the children. The kids laughed and began to follow it when it started to move away from them. The witness watched as the huge toy lured the kids into a dark alleyway. Once they got to the end, the toy stopped dancing and singing. It stared down at the kids for a while, then grabbed the closest one near it. A young boy. The other kids screamed and ran off..."

Jackson took a breath and exhaled and looked over to Fredbear. Fredbear was already starting to look disturbed by the story. Jackson's eyes flickered over to Brown, who was still quiet. The ticking clocks in the small workshop were the only things making noise. Jackson's eyes quickly darted over to his right when he saw something move along the floor. Jackson eyed Thomas, the little mechanical bear as it walked under the table and through a small open door that was his size. Jackson opened his mouth and finished the story. "He saw your mechanical creation encounter the boy in the alleyway, and murder him...," he answered.

"Strangled to death," Detective Brown added.

Fredbear stared down at the floor and shook his head. Brown and Jackson tried reading his emotions. He didn't look guilty for the murder of the child, he looked distraught that it happened.

"We are not saying you are behind this, Mr. Fredbear. We just want to make sure that what the witness saw was just his imagination," Jackson added. "Though, he sounded very serious about it," Brown finally spoke up, .

Mr. Fredbear looked up at Brown and glared at him. "But I'm still a suspect, is that right?" he asked them. Detective Brown shook his head. "Not quite. We don't really have any connections that could help us in solving this crime. We don't even have a body to inspect," he explained. "When we came to the scene of the crime, the body wasn't there. No blood, no hair; not a trace. The only lead we had was the witnesses' word and his explanation of the killer...one of your toys."

Mr. Fredbear shook his head. "I assure you gents, my creations are harmless, they wouldn't hurt a fly," he told them. Detective Jackson nodded. "We are sure they are...but we still need to inspect your creations. We don't want you to lose your shop because of a rumor that your toys murder children," he said.

Mr. Fredbear narrowed his eyes, exhaling out of his nose. His hands were on his knees as he glared at the ground. The inspector was right. The sooner the inspectors inspected his shop, the sooner they could leave his shop and get on with solving the crime. Mr. Fredbear knew that his big mechanical animals couldn't have left his shop...let alone murder a child. Whoever the murderer was, they were trying to make it look like one of his toys did it...but why? Why were they murdering kids? And why frame it on his creations?

Mr. Fredbear stood up.

"Fine, let me introduce you to my creations," Mr. Fredbear said, trying not to let his anger get the better of him as he motioned for the two investigators to follow him to the back. "Watch where you step," Mr. Fredbear said as he avoided stepping on crates of metal parts, tools, and a couple of the small, mechanical bears walking aimlessly about the shop.

The two investigators exchanged glances before slowly shuffling their way through the messy shop.


	3. Chapter 3: Frankenstein

**Mechanical**

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Chapter 3: Frankenstein

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Detective Brown had to duck to avoid the small, various marionettes on their strings as the three men made their way through the back of Mr. Fredbear's work shop. One of the marionettes above the investigator was bigger and taller than the others. Detective Brown stopped in alarm when he saw it. It hung above his head like a lanky black spider. Yellow shafts of light came down from above, giving the huge marionette a creepy look. It was all made of wood, painted delicately. The arms were striped black and white, while the face was painted white with round red cheeks and red lips. Two purple painted lines ran down from its black almond shaped eyes.

Detective Brown stared up at it, terrified by its grotesque and nightmarish appearance. It didn't look like that it belonged in the cheerful workshop of a toymaker. It looked like something that a monster would create to send off into the night and give children nightmares.

Jackson stopped when he saw his partner had stopped walking. He walked over to where Detective Brown was and looked up. A wave of dread hit Jackson like a bag of bricks at the sight of the terrifying huge marionette. It grinned down at the two investigators from where it hung; its arms and legs all akimbo, and in an awkward and uncomfortable position. Jackson couldn't stop staring at how creepy it was...and strangely how it looked almost alive...like it controlled its own strings...

"Come along!" said Mr. Fredbear from the front. The two investigators quickly turned their gaze away from the creepy puppet and moved on. Jackson couldn't stop thinking about the creepy puppet. He hoped that Mr. Fredbear wouldn't allow that one to be able to walk around the place.

Finally they came to the back where the four huge metal toys stood in the very back of the workshop. Shrouded in the shadows, and surrounded by crates of parts and other assorted items; the four metal animals all stood in a row and stared out towards the front of the shop with their dark, lifeless lens like eyes. Jackson and Brown stared at the creatures, recognizing what each animal they resembled. From left, to right, there was a rabbit, a bear, a chicken, and a fox.

They all each were taller than all three men. Their metals were all a different color and they all wore some sort of garment that matched their metal color. The bunny was a bluish purple, the bear was a bronze color, the chicken was a golden yellow color, and the fox was a rusted red color. The two investigators stared up at the four in shock. They didn't realize that they were going to be this huge! They were giant. Almost as big as elephants. A person could easily fit inside one of them.

Mr. Fredbear came up to each one and began to turn knobs and flip switches on the metal animals to wake them up. Once he was done, each of the metal animals started to jolt and shake. Smoke poured out from long crooked metal pipes that stuck out from their backs. Jackson and Brown took a couple steps back from the metal creatures. Mr. Fredbear noticed, causing a small smirk to play upon his lips. Then, he turned his focus back to his creations once their eyes began to glow brightly, lighting up the dark section of the workshop.

"Allright, my children, introduce yourselves. Don't by shy," said Mr. Fredbear to the four metal creatures. The two investigators stared at the four animatronic creatures as they continued to shake and twitch. The sound of scraping metals echoed through the room, and the smoke filled the room, but most went out an open window Mr. Fredbear had just opened up.

The bluish-purple tinted metal rabbit came up first. It took two steps forward. Its ears were sectioned into joints, allowing the ears to bend and move on their own. The mechanical bunny wore a purple patterned vest and a white buttoned up shirt underneath. Underneath his chin was a deep red bowtie. His glowing red eyes matched with his bowtie. Jackson instantly didn't like the rabbit, mostly because his eyes were the only ones that glowed red, while the other metal animals' eyes glowed white in the darkness.

The purple metallic rabbit's mouth moved upward into a smile. "G-g-g-g-good good morning, gentlem-men...I...I'm Bonn-Bonnie the Bunny-y," He said in a somewhat deep metallic sounding voice that seemed to echo. He waved his metal arm in jerky movements. The two investigators' mouths dropped open in shock. The robot rabbit just spoke to _them!_

After the robotic rabbit was done introducing himself, he took two steps back, standing back in line. Next, the yellow chicken came up. The two investigators watched when the bear started to go up the same time as the chicken. The two looked at each other for a minute, their gears clicking inside their round heads. Finally, the bear smiled and gestured for the chicken to go ahead. The chicken smiled back and went up next.

The chicken's steps were heavy and made clunking noises when she walked. She wore a yellow flower patterned dress and a matching bonnet on her head. She smiled by opening her beak. The investigators cringed when they saw that the chicken had a row of teeth along the edge of her beak, giving her a creepy appearance. Her glowing white lens like eyes focused on the investigators, making a strange faint whirring sound. She lifted up her dress and curtsied.

"I-I-I'm Ch-Chica...P-please to m-m-m-meet you gent-g-gentlemen," she said in a somewhat human female sounding voice, but at the same time sounded inhuman from the metallic sound added in to it. Jackson nervously tipped his hat to her. She noticed and giggled, making the investigator's face go pale. The metallic creatures acted more advanced than the other toys that Mr. Fredbear had created. It terrified Jackson to think how advanced the robots really were.

Finally, the chicken moved back to her spot, allowing the bear to go next. The bear was bigger than the other robot animals. It's round metal bronze and copper colored belly had a barred stove door on the front. Inside, fire was seen burning as steam hissed from the metal pipes that came out from his back. His eyes were brass colored and looked like goggles. He wore a human sized black top hat, making it look small on his huge head. He wore a large custom fit dark brown coat with tails and a black bow under his chin. The enormous metal bear's eyes glowed white from inside as he took an awkward bow. Metal screeching against metal, and the sound of huge gears from inside his arms clicked and clanked while he bowed to the investigators, taking off his hat in the process.

"Goo-od day, D-d-detectiv-ves...M-m-my...n-n-n-name is..sssss...Fred-Freddy...Fazb-bear," he said in the similar metallic voice as the others, but his was more deep and sounded like trapped thunder inside his dome like stomach. Brown flinched when he heard Freddy call them detectives instead of gentlemen. Then, Freddy lifted his upper torso back up and placed his hat on his head. Just as he began to walk back, the rust colored fox excitedly came up to the investigators. Brown and Jackson flinched and instinctively placed their hands on their guns. The fox came up fast and approached them closer than the others.

The fox wore an elaborate long, deep red coat with gold designs on it, and a deep red colored pirate hat with gold tassels and coins sewn to it. At his waist was a real cutlass. His jaw opened and closed, revealing sharp metal teeth. Smoke poured out behind him from his pipes as he moved.

I-I-I-I-I...b-b-be-e...Fox-Fox-F-..." The fox began to jerk and twist violently. Metal grinding against metal was heard, then the sound of a bolt being ripped out and flying across the room and hitting the floor. The fox's lower jaw hung loose and swayed back and forth from the other bolt which held the other side of the jaw in place. The fox stopped in his tracks and froze. His eyes flickered on and off.

Mr. Fredbear gasped and quickly came to the fox's aid. "This is Foxy the Pirate Fox...He's the last I created out of the four...He always breaks down a lot. I'm always having to constantly repair him," Mr. Fredbear explained to the investigators as he pulled out a wrench and a new bolt from his back pocket and started to tighten the bolt near the side of Foxy's jaw. Once the fox's jaw was back into place, Mr. Fredbear tapped the side of Foxy's head. "Wake up Foxy. You are as good as new," he said smiling. The fox twitched and finally lifted back up. His eyes came back on as he opened and closed his mouth. "Th-th-thank ye-e-e, papa," said Foxy as he smiled and walked back to where the others were.

Mr. Fredbear chuckled as he wiped his hands on his apron and turned back to the two investigators. "There you have it." Jackson's mouth was open in shock. Brown looked the same, trying to not look impressed. Jackson quickly closed his mouth and grinned excitedly. "These works are incredible!" said Jackson. Brown simply nodded, trying not to show too much emotion, unlike his partner. Jackson was so amazed by Mr. Fredbear's craft, but was too afraid to examine any closer. "How long did it take you to make these?" he asked.

Mr. Fredbear smirked as he stared at Jackson, now starting to see the young boy in him. "Many years, and many unsuccessful attempts," he simply said. "But I never gave up. All of this..." he gestured to the four tall metal animals, then to the front of his shop. "...is my passion." Then Mr. Fredbear's smile disappeared and his arm slowly lowered back to his side as he glared at the two investigators.

"So, which of my creations is being blamed for murdering the poor child?" asked Mr. Fredbear with a hint of anger in his voice.

Jackson's smile instantly disappeared. He went quiet as he nervously exchanged glances with Brown. Brown stared at Mr. Fredbear for a moment, before pulling out a big envelope that held a couple papers inside. He flipped through the papers till he found the one he needed and read it to himself. After a couple minutes, he finally spoke.

"The witness described it being a tall metal rabbit," the short investigator said, then glanced over to Bonnie. Bonnie's gears clanked from inside his chest, and his left ear twitched, making the situation ironic by making him seem nervous. Mr. Fredbear looked over to the rabbit with a worried look on his face. The rabbit glanced over to him, then looked away.

Mr. Fredbear turned around and stood in front of Bonnie, glaring at the two investigators. "My creations would never harm children. Ask any child around here. They have seen these guys come out and entertain them. That is all they know. Entertaining children and families," he said.

The two investigators were silent for a moment. Then, Jackson spoke up. "Do you know of any other toymakers who could have made similar creations such as yours?" asked Jackson. Mr. Fredbear thought for a moment, then his shoulders sagged as he shook his head. "I don't know any other toymakers. It is possible that there are other people trying to copy my work, but I know only of my own creations... It has taken me nearly a lifetime to be able to create these unique toys to be able to move and talk on their own," he said in a melancholy tone as he stared down at the messy floor.

Then he lifted his head back up. "But I assure you gentlemen...Bonnie is not a murderer," he said sternly. Brown stared at Mr. Fredbear for a moment with his same, emotionless face. "You say it as if your creation is alive," Brown stated. Mr. Fredbear narrowed his eyes angrily. "Do you not believe what your eyes had seen?" he asked bitterly. Brown's expression didn't change. "I know of gypsies and musicians tricking fools into believing that they can do magic. I am no fool, Mr. Fredbear. I do not believe in magic. There is always a logical answer to everything."

"Then what about the metal rabbit wandering around at night? How do you explain that? If Mr. Fredbear's creations are more advanced than his other creations, surely it could have figured out how to get out of the workshop and walk around," Jackson pointed out. Detective Brown sighed. "You're making it sound like Mr. Fredbear is Dr. Frankenstein."

Jackson pointed over to Mr. Fredbear's four metal animals. "Well, what we had just witnessed is pretty similar to it." he said. "I have never seen anything like it in my life. The creatures actually walked and introduced themselves specifically to us. How can you explain that and not believe?" asked Jackson.

Detective Brown huffed and narrowed his eyes at Jackson. "I believe that Mr. Fredbear could have simply thrown his voice into his creations and make it look like that they were actually talking." Then he looked at Mr. Fredbear. "How else would your bear have known that we were detectives?" he asked as he gestured to Freddy.

Mr. Fredbear looked over to Freddy, who nervously shifted. Before Freddy could open his mouth, Detective Brown continued. "It is impossible for a metal being to move and think on their own without the proper instruments. You need organs and veins to pump blood, a heart to beat, a brain to help it think and so many other items to help it all work."

"So, you don't believe that Bonnie killed that child in the alleyway last night?" Mr. Fredbear asked. Detective Brown shook his head. "Like I said before, you are not a suspect, we don't have a lot of leads or any body to inspect for that matter. If your creations are really advanced as they seem, then I would suggest keeping that under wraps. If word gets out about Mr. Fredbear being the real Dr. Frankenstein, everyone will begin to believe that you are creating monsters for their children."

Mr. Fredbear opened his mouth, then finally closed it. Brown was right. Even though he was beginning to hate him, Brown was trying to help him. Of course he was a skeptic about his work, but he was smarter than he looked.

Just then, Brown looked over to the left, near Bonnie, he walked over and noticed a door. "Is this door locked?" he asked. Mr. Fredbear watched Brown walk over to the door a couple feet away from Bonnie. "Yes, it is, it has always been locked," he said. Brown examined the door for a while. The door was large and had white paint peeling from it. "Is this where your creations walk out of to entertain the children outside?" he asked. Mr. Fredbear nodded. "Yes. I have the key with me at all times. They entertain three to four times a day."

Detective Brown stared at the door for a while. His eyes trailed up and down along the sides of the threshold. Something caught his eye on how the door was placed. Then he decided to press against the door. As he did, the door came undone from its hinges and crashed against the ground on the other side. Outside a horse whinnied in fear and quickened its pace. Mr. Fredbear gasped in shock as he stared at the door on the ground.

"That's not possible...It was fine yesterday morning," he said. He turned to the two investigators. "Someone had to have broken in," he said. Detective Brown stared at the door again. "It was broken from the inside," he said, pointing to the scrape marks from the threshold where the door once was. Mr. Fredbear shook his head slightly. No, that can't be right. I was here the whole night..." his voice faded.

Jackson slowly approached Mr. Fredbear. "Mr. Fredbear-" he started, but Mr. Fredbear backed away from him. "They would never harm children!" Mr. Fazbear shouted. "I made them myself! I would never create them to kill people!" He shouted angrily. The whole room instantly went quiet. The two investigators stared at Mr. Fredbear in surprise.

Mr. Fredbear breathed heavily as he glared at Jackson. Gradually, his breathing slowed and he turned away from them. "I apologize for my outburst," he muttered.

The silence in the room made Mr. Fredbear very nervous. He knew the two investigators were now assuming he was acting guilty. Finally, the silence was destroyed by Detective Brown. "Thank you, Mr. Fredbear for your time. We will see ourselves out. Good day," he said tipping his hat and avoiding a handshake from Mr. Fredbear. He motioned his hand for Jackson to come. Jackson followed right behind Detective Brown, both walking back the way they came to the front of the store.

As the investigators left, they glanced up one last time to see the creepy puppet. Once they did, they noticed that it was gone. Jackson and Detective Brown felt chills go up their spines at the exact same time. Where was it? Where did it go? Detective Brown shook his head, not wanting to scare himself. They must have already passed by it. The long, narrow ceiling of the workshop was so distorted and messy, it was a miracle that Mr. Fredbear was able to find anything in it. With that, they coninued walking to the front of the shop.

Mr. Fredbear heard the faint ring of the bell of the the two investigators leaving his shop. The two then walked down the cobblestone path back to their station.

In the shop, Mr. Fredbear slowly sat down at an empty stool near him. He buried his face into his hands.

The sounds of wheezing pipes and shrieking metal was heard as the enormous animal creations began to slowly shut down. Their fuels in their systems had run out and were beginning to go back to sleep. Gears clicked and pipes rattled till all four finally ceased moving. Their eyes were the last to finally flicker out.

Mr. Fredbear sighed to himself. Most likely the two investigators now suspected Bonnie. His own creation going against his master, like Frankenstein's own creation...breaking the door down with ease, and escaping into the night... Mr. Fredbear shook his head as he pulled his hands away from his face. No. Bonnie wasn't a murderer. Someone else had to have done this. Someone had to have been framing him and Bonnie for the murder...but who? and why?

Mr. Fredbear looked over to the door that was still laying outside. He sighed as he got up and pulled out his screwdriver from his heavy apron pocket and got to work fixing his door. Once he was done, he began hammering boards across the door. Every nail he hammered into the boards, felt like he was hammering into his heart. This was the only way to keep anymore unnecessary trespassers into his shop, and to keep his creations in. It was only till the investigators caught the real culprit who had murdered the child. Mr. Fredbear hoped they caught the culprit soon, he didn't like the idea of keeping his children cooped up inside the workshop all day.

Once he was done, he yawned in exhaustion and decided to take the day off. He placed his hammer and bucket of nails down and walked out from his workshop to the front. He walked out the front door. The bell ringed overhead as he closed it and locked the door behind him. Mr. Fredbear sighed as he lifted his head and looked up at the sign above his shop written in fancy red lettering: _Mr. Fredbear's Mechanical Toy Shop._

The clouds above his shop had suddenly changed to a dark grey. It looked like that it was going to rain. Thunder was heard off in the distance, and a cold chill blew through Mr. Fredbear's old bones. Mr. Fredbear rubbed his bare arms a bit before walking around the shop over to a small two story house next to it. He unlocked the door and walked inside, up the flight of stairs to his small room. He flopped down on his bed. For a while he wasn't able to sleep, but after a while on dwelling on the murdered child, the broken door, and the two investigators. Finally, the lack of sleep got the better of him and Mr. Fredbear fell fast asleep.

The rain came. It drummed against his thatched rooftop like beads of glass. They drummed repeatedly in a soft lullaby as Mr. Fredbear slept. To the left of Mr. Fredbear's bed a couple feet away was a window. The rain dripped down across the clear panes of glass. Looking into the window...was the huge creepy marionette. The rain rolled down the marionette's face like tears as it stared right at Mr. Fredbear in his bed. Within its black almond shaped eyes, two white lights glowed from inside...


	4. Chapter 4: Striped Nightmares

**Mechanical**

...

Chapter 4: Striped Nightmares

...

* * *

As Mr. Fredbear slept, he began to dream...

 _His dream was pitch black. He couldn't see anything and felt like he was drifting through the air. Just then he heard a voice echo faintly in the darkness. It was a little girl's voice. At first he couldn't make out what she was saying. It was light and airy and too far away to understand. Mr. Fredbear tried moving in the darkness towards the voice._

 _As the voice got louder, it got closer. "Daddy," the voice said. Mr. Fredbear felt his stomach churn and a chill crawl up his spine. He tried answering the little girl's voice, but nothing came out._

 _"Daddy? Where are you, daddy?" the voice called out again._

 _He tried reaching his arms out in the darkness for the little girl. About fifteen feet away he could see a small glowing light, illuminating a big dark figure,. Its back was turned from Mr. Fredbear. Mr. Fredbear used his legs to walk towards the small dark figure. "Daddy," the little girl called again, in the same place where the dark figure was standing. Mr. Fredbear approached the dark figure, his body shaking. He tried speaking, but his voice was still gone. He stretched his arm out._

 _The dark figure turned around._

 _The dark figure was a tall animatronic who Mr. Fredbear couldn't recognize because of the dark shadows. Its eyes glowed brightly as steam billowed out from its copper tubes jutting out from his back. It opened its mouth and fire was seen burning brightly inside. A scream was heard from inside the animatronic. The rectangular metal piece on the stomach of the animatronic fell open. The animatronic made a deep inhuman sound as the metal pieces inside the animatronic's neck began to click and whir, making it slowly look down._

 _The little girl appeared and screamed from inside the open, glowing stomach of the animatronic._

 _"Save me daddy!" she screamed, reaching her small arm out. The front half of her body stuck out from the stomach, while tubes, copper wires and metal pipes were seen wrapped around her body, keeping her from escaping. Her hair was tangled in the mechanisms of the metallic animatronic, and the dress she wore was tattered and covered in blood._

 _Mr. Fredbear's eyes widened in horror as he tried moving his feet to pull her out; but his whole body went stiff. He couldn't move at all. All he could do was watch. "Daddy!" the little girl cried again as a couple metal wires wrapped around her free arm and roughly pulled it back. She screamed and struggled to break free, but it was no use. Mr. Fredbear silently cried as he tried breaking free from the invisible force that was keeping him from saving her. He felt as though he wasn't in control of his body._

 _While the girl screamed, blood began to dribble out of her mouth and hands. The sounds of her screaming were soon the sounds of her choking on her own blood. Fredbear opened his mouth and tried screaming, but still, nothing came out. Sharp knife like objects pierced through the little girl's flesh, causing more blood to drip and splash onto the floor. The little girl eventually stopped screaming and went limp. Her head went down, causing her untangled long blonde hair to spill out of the animatronic's stomach like a waterfall._

 _The little girl's dead body was slowly dragged back into the tall, shadowed animatronic. Once the little girl's body was squished and tucked uncomfortably inside, the metal piece flipped back up, causing the light from the stomach to go out, and everything go silent. Only the glowing white eyes of the dark animatronic remained._

 _Mr. Fredbear felt his knees shake and instantly went heavy like weights. Mr. Fredbear felt himself go down. His whole body was shaking and was at the brink of needing to vomit, but couldn't. He tried lowering his head down from the horrific scene, but something kept him from doing so. He continued to look up at the dark metallic animatronic covered in dark blood._

 _Just then, something appeared from above the animatronic's head. Its face was pale white and glowed like a distorted moon in the darkness._

 _Mr. Fredbear instantly recognized the puppet as it loomed over the animatronic and himself. The human sized puppet stared down at the shaking Mr. Fredbear. Even with the grin on its face, the wet purple painted tears flowed down the puppet's body and dripped onto the floor. Mr. Fredbear watched t_ _he paint change color from the deep plum purple, to the sinister dark red._

 _Blood._

 _The lanky puppet raised its striped arms and in one sudden movement, pierced its thin ebony black fingers through Mr. Fredbear's chest-_

Mr. Fredbear snapped open his eyes and sat bolt upright. His while body was soaked in his own sweat. He clutched the place where he felt a stabbing pain. He looked down and didn't see the puppet's needle like fingers going through him; only his damp night gown.

A loud boom was heard from his window, making him jump. He looked over to his window and saw that the window was half open, and outside was pouring down rain.

Mr. Fredbear quickly got out of bed and closed the window shut and drew the heavy purple curtains. Then he sighed and turned around and shuffled back to his bed. He sat on the edge of his bed and buried his face into his wrinkly hands. The nightmare repeated over and over in his head like a broken record player. Tears came to Mr. Fredbear's eyes, but he forced them down.

It had been a while since he had a dream of...

Mr. Fredbear moved his hands away from his face and shook his head. He stopped when his eyes flickered over to his nightstand next to him. He reached over to his nightstand for the brown bottle of alcohol that stood on the surface of it.

Once his shaking fingers wrapped around it, he pulled it close to him and held it in his hands for a moment. Then he lifted the mouth of the bottle up to his lips and drank from it. The alcohol came a little too quick as some of it trickled down his chin and neck, staining his night wear. Mr. Fredbear lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth and neck with the back of his sleeve.

He took a couple more swigs before placing the half filled bottle back onto the night stand. Mr. Fredbear shivered a little. The room was very cold. A flash was seen from behind the curtains; a clap of thunder was heard after. Mr. Fredbear listened to the sounds of the storm outside, deep in thought. His thoughts were soon interrupted when the sound of the grandfather clock was heard outside his room. It chimed Eleven o' clock. Mr. Fredbear had slept the rest of yesterday, and almost the whole morning of today.

Mr. Fredbear didn't care as he got up and cracked his back. He didn't feel like opening his shop today, after all that had happened yesterday and the nightmare, he felt like taking the day off, and doing a couple of errands.

...

Once the storm had stopped, Mr. Fredbear went down to the locksmith and bought a couple locks. The sky was still covered with heavy dark storm clouds. Inside the store, he avoided the looks from the people inside the store. The owner of the shop, whom he barely knew, gave him a look as he placed down multiple locks down on the counter.

"Keeping things locked in, Mr. Fredbear?" he asked him slowly, placing the locks into a brown paper bag, one by one. Mr. Fredbear kept his head down as he fished out his money and slapped it down on the counter. "Keeping things locked _out,"_ Mr. Fredbear said with a firm tone as he gave the owner of the store a quick look in the eye. Then he grabbed his heavy bag of locks and shuffled out the door and back down the street.

When he got back to his shop, he placed the locks on the inside of the large door for the animatronics. When he was done he turned to his tall, metallic creations and sighed. "I'm sorry, my children...it'll only be for a while..." he said. The animatronics didn't say anything. Their lifeless eyes remained straight ahead down the long narrow section of the workshop.

Once he was done, he walked back to his stool and began to straighten up a couple things. As he did, his thoughts were interrupted by something outside. He went over to the small window and looked out. A couple kids were playing near his workshop. Then there was a shout as a middle aged lady in a dull colored purple dress with multiple layers came and grabbed one of the kids' hands.

"I don't want you kids around here anymore!" the lady told them. Mr. Fredbear assumed the older lady was the children's mother. The kids complained as they were pulled away. "But I want to see Freddy and the others dance and sing!" one said.

Hearing this made Mr. Fredbear's heart ache. He almost rushed over to the door to stop them. Instead, he sighed and stopped cleaning. His motivation was gone and was replaced with sadness. He didn't know what to do. His creations were being accused and he had no way of fixing it. He didn't know why the murderer was doing this to him. He barely knew anyone in the town. Mr. Fredbear never wanted to make friends...not after...

Mr. Fredbear pushed the old memory out of his head. He didn't want to go down memory lane. Not while his animatronics were being accused. He needed to stop this...but how? He didn't want to move again. It was bad enough he had moved from multiple towns before moving to a different country altogether...Mr. Fredbear sat back down on his stool and clasped his hands together, pressing his fingers against his forehead.

After a while, he got up and shuffled out of his store and back to his house. He went up to his bedroom and laid down in the bed, not bothering to change. The cloudy sky outside got darker and darker till it became pitch black. The rain softly drummed against the cold glass of Mr. Fredbear's bedroom window. The restless hours wore on as Mr. Fredbear tossed and turned in his bed. The grandfather clock began to chime. Midnight. Mr. Fredbear sat upright and stared out the window. The orange lit lanterns outside burned brightly.

Suddenly, a horrific, high shrilled scream ripped though the silence. Mr. Fredbear got up out of his bed and looked out of his window. There, he saw a huge dark figure run down the cobblestone street and down another dark street.

Mr. Fredbear quickly got up from his spot and ran out of his house, down the street and towards the direction where he saw the dark figure. As he did, he found himself running along other people of the town. Everyone was in their nightgowns, carrying their own lantern; running in the same direction towards the commotion.

As he was looking at the townsfolk, he wasn't looking where he was going and bumped into someone, causing him to stumble and fall. Mr. Fredbear landed on his hands and knees, feeling the skin scrape against the rocks. He winced and cradled his hands as he laid there on his side.

The figure stopped and turned to him. "Oh! I'm sorry! Are you alright?" a female voice asked. Mr. Fredbear winced again as someone tripped over his legs. Other townspeople continued running around him, or in this case, through him. He adjusted the glasses on his face, just as he saw a brown finger less gloved hand appear before him. He looked up and found himself face to face with a beautiful lady.

She was in her early thirties, with soft pale skin and dark rich brown hair that came down in curls. She wore a pair of tinted goggles on her head, and a long brown and blue coat with silver round buttons along the sides. The lapels of the coat had embroidered clockwork cogs and sprockets in gold and bronze colored threads. She wore tight black pants with knee high black boots.

As Mr. Fredbear stared, he began to wonder why she was the only one wearing her strange day clothes and not in her night gown like everyone else...Then he glanced down at himself, seeing that he was also wearing his day clothes, and decided not to question the girl.

Mr. Fredbear refused her help as he got up himself. He brushed off the dirt from his pants and apron. "I apologize...I wasn't looking where I was going," he muttered. The lady smiled.

"It's quite all right, Mister...?" her voice faded as she inquired a name. Mr. Fredbear didn't really have time for introductions, but suddenly found himself clearing his throat and holding his out his hand for a handshake. "Fredbear," he said in the same low tone. The lady grabbed his hand firmly and gave him a firm handshake.

"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Fredbear. My name is Emily Tarov, but you can call me Emily," she said. The 'v' in her last name was silent, so it sounded like Taro. Mr. Fredbear removed his hands from hers and placed it into his pocket. As he did, he saw more people rushing by him, reminding him why he was outside in the first place. He gave the lady a quick farewell wave with his other hand."Yes, well, good day," then turned and began briskly walking towards the commotion.

Emily called after him and followed him. By the time he got to the crowd of people huddled around the scene of the crime, Emily was standing right next to him. They both pushed their way towards the small open circle in the crowd of people. Mr. Fredbear heard the nervous murmurs from the people near him. "Another child has gone missing." Mr. Fredbear got to the middle of the crowd.

There, in the middle of it, was a small spattering of blood on the cobblestones. Near it, were bronze and copper cogs and sprockets, flaked in the blood. A couple of the kids witnessing this were crying, claiming they saw the dark figure. Judging by their clothes, Mr. Fredbear noticed that the kids were orphans; ones who he actually recognized coming by his shop once or twice.

"It looked like Bonnie...the metal bunny from the toyshop," one sobbed. The murmurs rose louder in the crowd. Fear was beginning to spread through everyone. Mr. Fredbear felt his whole body stiffen and his blood run cold when he saw the two investigators in the crowd, the same ones that came to his shop just yesterday.

Mr. Jackson was beginning to clear everyone away from the scene and started running chalk around the scene to keep people from stepping over it. Mr. Fredbear's eyes met Mr. Brown's as they both stared at each other from across the gap. Mr. Brown stared at Mr. Fredbear from where he was, making Mr. Fredbear uneasy. Mr. Fredbear knew the look. Suspicion.

Mr. Fredbear broke his gaze from Mr. Brown and started slowly walking out of the crowd, then stopped when he felt himself brush up against someone from behind. It was Emily. She stared at him with concern. "Are you allright?" she asked him. Mr. Fredbear didn't answer as he pushed past her out of the crowd and briskly walked away from the horrific scene and back down the cobblestone street toward his shop.

He unlocked the door and flung it open. The bell above his shop rang loudly behind him as he stumbled through his messy workshop, tipping over cans of paint and sending loose papers fluttering to the floor. He got to the way back of his workshop and stared up at his four biggest creations. Bonnie, Freddy, Chica and Foxy were still there. He turned to the left where the door was and checked the locks.

They were all still intact. Mr. Fredbear stared at the locks for a while before sighing and running his hands through his wirey hair. Then he turned and looked up at Bonnie, silent. "I'm so sorry, Bon...I don't know what is going on..." he whispered to him. Bonnie didn't say anything. The red glass eyed creature continued to stare blankly ahead. Mr. Fredbear sighed and shook his head.

With that, he reached up and began to turn the tall metal bunny on. Smoke poured out of the pipes from Bonnie's back. As it did, Bonnie began to slowly twitch and move. The strange clinking noises filled Mr. Fredbear's hears. Oh how he missed the sounds of metal scraping against metal and every piece inside his creations clicking and working as one.

Mr. Fredbear began to smile as he watched Bonnie's eyes light up and come to life. It was such an amazing sight. Mr. Fredbear suddenly stopped smiling when Bonnie's hand moved up toward Mr. Fredbear's face. Mr. Fredbear moved his head away when he saw something dripping from the purple metal bunny's arm. Mr. Fredbear grabbed the robot's arm, causing Bonnie to flinch and cause his metal workings to click offset.

Bonnie's ears clicked and twitched as they moved, angling downward to Mr. Fredbear. "F-F-Fath-ther...?" asked Bonnie in his stuttering metallic voice. Mr. Fredbear ignored him as he stared at the red stuff that ran down the metal and dripped onto the floor.

Blood.

...


	5. Chapter 5: Secrets

**Mechanical**

...

Chapter 5: Secrets

...

* * *

...

 _Theodore Fredrick Berenson Jr's diary:_

 _..._

 _December 21, 1855..._

 _My time back home from the war has been rough, but I am thankfully recovering. The nightmares continue to haunt me, just as much as my father. He continues to ask me when I am going back to school. Everyday, usually around breakfast and dinnertime, he would bring up the question. I would always think up excuses or change the subject. I haven't told him about my new motivation, and I don't plan to. I know my father will beat me and disown me if I went against what he wants for me._

 _To him, a doctor is the best choice. I never wanted to be a doctor. I truthfully had left a couple of the lectures when the professors began bringing out dead animals and started to dissect them in front of the whole class. It reminded me too much of the war, all the dead bodies with missing organs and ligaments..._ _I of course never told my father, for he would have considered me a weakling for feeling ill at the sight of blood._

 _I sometimes wished I was back in the war, just so I didn't have to deal with my father. I dreaded coming back home when the war was over, but it's the only place I know. All my friends have already moved away to live in the dorms at their colleges or with other family members. Me and my family live in an area where we're are far away from all our family members. I have only seen my cousins from my mothers side once when they came to visit for the holidays._

 _Hopefully this winter they will come down again since Christmas is almost here. My favorite holiday; mostly because my father has stopped asking me about my classes. Christmas was one of the things I missed when I left for the war. The wonderful warm feeling, the heavy smells of gingerbread and pine, and of course, the presents._

 _This year, I actually asked for one thing, and today was the day I decided to ask my father. Mother cooked us an early Christmas dinner. Stuffed turkey, smoked ham, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, three bean casserole, and cracked wheat rolls. The food was delicious, I almost didn't want to stop eating. Every time I looked up at my father, I crammed another forkful of turkey into my mouth._

 _It was silent at the dinner table. Usually my father would start up a conversation, then we would have to participate in the conversation. Our father was very strict when it came to conversations. Mostly it was about the weather or something he heard at his work. I hated it. I wasn't interested in any subject he was into; that's why I hoped I could start up a conversation before he did. ..._

 _I decided to ask him if I could use the old barn by the evergreens. It used to hold all our animals. Unfortunately, we had to sell a few a couple winters ago, and our last cow died. Now the barn sits alone, isolated from everyone and everything. I thought it would be perfect to work on my creations._

 _I waited till my father was done with his role, then I spoke up and asked him. I tried making my voice loud and clear, but my words stumbled out of my mouth and were low. Once they were out and on the table, I feared my father would shout at me for not being clear with my words and hit me._

 _Instead, he was silent, which made things even more uncomfortable. He stopped eating. I felt my heart skip a beat when I watched him slowly place the fork down, hearing the metal clink against the porcelain plate. He asked me why I needed the old barn from across the dinner table. I stared back at him. I could tell in his eyes that he was suspicious of me._

 _Of course I left out the main reason why I needed it. My mind was already trying to think of a good lie. I fidgeted nervously in my seat, my younger siblings and my mother's eyes were on me too. I opened my mouth, and came up with a lie on the spot. Basically that I wanted to use it as a quiet place to study and work on projects once I get back to my college and take my classes. My father was silent for a while, then finally nodded. He told me I could use it for my studies._

 _I could feel the tense feeling in my stomach slowly relax, but one part of it stayed tense. Deep down I knew my lie was going to be found out sooner or later, and my father was not going to be very happy about it..._

 _...March 16, 1856..._

 _Once the winter was over and flowers began to push their way through the last remnants of white snow, my father lead me to the barn where I was to "study." He gave me the key to the barn and told me to unlock it. Once I did, we both pushed the heavy doors open and looked inside._

 _The place smelled musty. It had a couple owls and rats already living in it. Once they saw us, they flew out the doors or scurried into the rotten piles of hay. The old barn was huge and disgusting. The wooden supports above were split and hanging from above. Parts of the barn ceiling had holes in them and had dirty puddles of water from the snow and rains._

 _"It's all yours, as long as you study," he told me._

 _I silently nodded my head as I felt the knot in my stomach grow bigger. With that, he gave me a broom and a dustpan and told me to clean up the place. I spent the whole afternoon cleaning the place of rat droppings and rotten debris._

 _Once it was all cleaned up, I began planning what I needed, and where I could hide it in the barn. Most of the items I would be able to find easily were in my parents' house, and in the general store down the road. Of course the other items I would have to improvise._

 _Next, I started walking around the barn, looking around. Most of the wood was still sturdy and strong. Other parts of it were weak and could easily be kicked in. I patched up the weak areas with stronger wood and nails. Once that was done, I got a ladder and began to patch up the places on the barn roof, keeping the owls and rats out._

 _The cleaning and patching up took a long time, but soon, all the hard work was done, and the self teaching of mechanics, science and keeping secrets came right after..._


	6. Chapter 6: Freddy

**Mechanical**

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Chapter 6: Freddy

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* * *

 _April 17th 1856..._

 _Just yesterday I bought more items I needed with my allowance money, and the money I was paid for during the war. I only go out when my father is at work. My mother sees me, but never questions it or mentions it to my father. My siblings on the other hand, I have to personally tell them not to spy on me or tell our parents; and promise them sweets and chocolate when I make my secret errands over to the general store._

 _My whole barn is filled with the sounds of multiple carved clocks I have made. I had taken up some time learning the inner workings of clocks and how they function and move. The parts are so delicate and small, I have lost a few when they fell through the holes in the floor. I have made several wooden clocks and sold some at the market in order to get more money for more tools._

 _May 4th 1856..._

 _Today I borrowed books from the library in the town. I actually found a pamphlet in one of the books. I'm guessing, it was used as a bookmark or just placed in there by mistake. I actually found it more interesting than the content inside the book. The text in the book was very confusing and I had no idea what they were talking about._

 _The pamphlet was small, but still readable. It was directions on how to work a small mechanical wound up toy. I was intrigued by the scripted writing and the inked artwork of the toy itself. I actually went back to the general store and started looking through all the mechanical metal toys there._

 _Most of them were wooden with little wooden handles you used to turn to make the wooden animal move. I found one that was a bear on his back legs, moving his top hat up and down from his head. I played with it for a while till something else caught my eye._

 _It was a metal child inside a glass case. It had no legs, only a small head, arms formed like a child's, and a torso that reminded me of a bird cage. The inner workings of the metal child was what fascinated me greatly. This machine was beautiful. The melancholy features in the face looked so life like and real. It was exactly what I yearned to create. A self operating machine without the need for human help. It could move on its own with its own will. Making its gears and inner workings click and operate as one._ _I dearly wished to purchase it and have it as my own, but it was very expensive._

 _I watched as the head of the metal child turn its sad face towards me, causing me to nearly jump out of my own skin. It stared at me with its formed, blank eyes as it turned back and moved its other hand. The automaton as it was called, was created to draw. Inside it held information on how to draw certain things._

 _I watched as the metal child grabbed the fountain pen from the wooden desk it was bolted down to. It grabbed a piece of blank parchment paper from a stack near it, dipped the tip of its pen into the ink well, and began to draw at a slow, steady pace._

 _A crowd had formed around me, but I paid no attention to them. Only the automaton. Just watching the automaton, I knew this was my destiny. I needed to create one of these mechanical beings..._

 _July 26th 1859..._

 _I haven't been writing in this journal much I know. I have been too busy on my recent project._

 _I had to destroy a couple of my old projects to add to my big project. A couple of them I have given to my siblings, telling them not to show our parents. Most I have reused the metal parts. The wind up copper toys move about the room, some I actually made to help me with my work. One of them was a bear. I named him Thomas and he helps me by walking over and handing me a couple tools from the tool box._

 _I enjoyed making my creations to look like animals since they were easier than trying to make them look like humans; but most of all, I was very fond of animals. I remembered back when I was younger, my parents used to take me to the circus in the city. I greatly enjoyed watching the animals jump through hoops or circle around the ring. My favorites were the bears that were dressed up to look like clowns. I thought their acts were hilarious._

 _I wish my father would take me back to see the circus again._

 _Also since I live on a farm, I get to see all sorts of animals, even more now since I am working late at night. Owls still try to come into the barn once in a while. I found a raccoon running along the side of the barn a couple days ago. I also saw a fox scamper away into the bushes..._

 _Once, when Amy was just eight years old and I was fourteen, we went out at night to catch fireflies in empty jelly jars in late summer. The night was warm and the summer moon was full and bright. Amy and I ran through the tall green grass where the fireflies danced. We heard a whine behind the blackberry bushes and found a fox trapped in one of my father's bear traps._ _The poor thing looked so scared. It had one of its front paws stuck and was creating a small pool of blood around it._

 _Amy and I tried helping the poor thing, but we were too weak to pry the metal jaws of the trap. My father found us and started yelling at us to leave it alone. Amy started to cry as I took her hand and walked with her back to the house. Once we were inside, we heard the horrible sound of a gun going off outside..._

 _..._

 _July 30th 1859..._

 _Recently, I found out my youngest sister, Camille, had been snooping around my barn and watching me work. She knew of my toys and the fact that I wasn't studying. She told me that she promised not to tell her older sister or our parents. My youngest sister was six years old, but knew how to keep secrets. She looked a lot like my mother, especially her long blonde hair that went into curls at the ends._

 _I eventually trusted her and allowed her to watch me work in the barn. I let her sit on a stool at the edge of my workbench so she wouldn't get hurt. She mostly played with my recent toys I had made and started to name a few of her favorites._

 _One of them I made to look like the wooden one from the general store. The one bear lifting his top hat from his head. Camille liked that one a lot and named him after me: Freddy._

 _In my household, I was named after my father: Theodore Fredrick Berenson. I hate the fact I am named after my father, so I go by my middle name. When Camille and Amy, my other sister, were born, they had a hard time saying 'Fredrick' so they called me 'Freddy' For short. Since then, I have been known as Freddy._

 _The metal Freddy bear was one of the first ones I worked on. Years later I hate the way how I made the bear look. The copper muzzle was too short and the teeth were was hideous. Camille would always argue against me when I would talk negative about it. She would tell me not to destroy it. I promised her that I wouldn't._

 _March 16th, 1860..._

 _I fear that my father is starting to grow suspicious. I saw him looking out the window while I made my visit to the barn. I am going to have to cut my visits to the barn short, and pretend to focus more on my books. While I have visited the library, I have checked out a couple medical books and kept some lying around the house, but now I fear that trick has worn out._

 _My father asked me about my progress in my classes this evening at dinner. I lied and told him something I skimmed over in one of the medical books. He gave me this long stare that sent chills down my spine. I was too afraid to look away so I stared back. Staring at my father reminded me gravely of my creation. How he was so tall and made me feel so small. The color of his eyes looking more black in the dim lighting in the dining room._

 _Suddenly, the stare was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell-_

 _..._

Mr. Fredbear jolted his head up from the saw dust filled work table when he heard the bell from the front of the shop ring. The metal Balloon Boy laughed next to Mr. Fredbear, as if humored by him being roused suddenly from his sleep. Mr. Fredbear quickly got up, nearly tripping over Thomas has he walked from his workshop to the front of the shop, to greet the customer who was brave enough to enter. Mr. Fredbear stopped in his tracks when he saw who it was.

Emily Tarov.

Emily was inspecting one of Mr. Fredbear's small metal creations. She smiled warmly at the one she held in her arms, adjusting the silk black bow around its neck and lightly tracing her finger along the edges of its' goggle eyes. Mr. Fredbear noticed that she was wearing the same outfit that she wore last night.

Mr Fredbear cleared his throat, causing her to turn to his direction. She quickly placed the toy down and smiled to him, moving her arms at her sides, gesturing to his whole shop.

"You have such an amazing shop, Mr. Fredbear," she answered him as she looked along the many white shelves cluttered around with the incredible mechanical dolls in the small turquoise painted round room. Mr. Fredbear clasped his hands behind his back and gave Emily a small nod. "Thank you," he said. She turned her attention away from him again and continued to look at the dolls. Mr. Fredbear watched her silently as she looked around like a little girl in a candy shop.

Mr. Fredbear walked behind the counter and sat down behind the huge metal cash register decorated in gold curled leaf designs. After a couple minutes of silence, Emily finally turned back to him; her dark blue coat swishing behind her as she moved.

"I don't think you are the murderer, Mr. Fredbear," she finally said. Mr. Fredbear stared at her. "...That's because I'm not," he said. Emily nodded. "I know, that's why I want to help you," she said. Mr. Fredbear blinked as he got up from his stool. "Help me?" he asked. Emily picked up another toy from one of the closer shelves and adjusted the small black top hat on the metal bear's head. "I found out that all the inspectors and policemen in this town are against you. They think you are the murderer, because of all the clues that all point to you."

Mr. Fredbear frowned. "How do you know this?" he asked. Emily turned the toy on and placed it down, allowing it to walk around the room. She smiled as she kept her focus on the toy. "Let's just say that I am part of a special kind of society that helps me gather helpful information on certain cases."

Mr. Fredbear gave her a look, clearly not buying it. The toy that she wound up lightly tapped against the wall on the other side of the room. It continued trying to walk forward, then it eventually ran out of motivation and stopped moving.

When Emily looked over to Mr. Fredbear and saw the unsatisfied look on his face, she showed him her badge on the inside of her blue coat. Mr. Fredbear pulled out his round spectacles from his pocket and placed them on his face. He leaned over the counter as he read it.

She was part of a secret police organization Mr. Fredbear had never heard of before. There was a big strange symbol and a couple other symbols around it that didn't look like any he had ever seen before. It didn't really make any sense to him. On top of that: Why was there a secret police woman involved in his case? He looked back up at Emily.

"How did your "organization" find out about this? Also...How do I know if I can trust you?" he asked. Emily shook her head. "The answer to your first question I'm sorry to say is classified." Mr. Fredbear frowned. "Well that doesn't help," he said sharply leaning back in his chair and crossing his thick arms over his broad chest. Emily sighed. "I know, but... you have to at least trust me by believing in what I am telling you...I want to help you... The organization I am a part of gets deep into unsolved cases, or cases that are part of the paranormal," she said. Mr. Fredbear blinked. "The paranormal? How is my case part of the paranormal?"

Emily hesitated, then sighed as she pulled out a small case file from her coat and placed it down on the counter in front of Fredbear. Fredbear gave her a look before looking down at the case file before him. Gingerly, he opened it up and found black and white photographs shift slightly. The photographs were pictures of children.

"Your case is part of an even bigger case that has been going on for quite some time now," she explained. Mr. Fredbear silently sorted through the photographs of children as Emily explained.

"I'm sure you know that you aren't the only one who has created robots. Ever since the Mechanical War, there has been a huge growth in companies producing robots, mechanical beings, or simply just mechanical limbs for the ones who lost their ligaments. Since then, the companies have been competing, working on bigger and better projects. Robots now populate as much as humans, walking amongst us and helping us through our daily lives.

"Unfortunately, there has been countless accidents this year. Just six months ago, Blackpool's Robotics went up in flames, and just four months ago, one of Milton's Mechanical Factory's robots went rouge and killed all of the workers. There has been no leads since, or any connections with the two companies. Police are saying that it was possibly just an accident, or that the two companies were so competitive, that they decided to destroy each other's company."

Just as Emily paused, Mr. Fredbear uncovered a black and white photo of one of the buildings of the company charred and black. Dark smoke and white fire was seen on the remains of the factory. Mr. Fredbear stayed silent, allowing Emily to continue.

"That's not even the weird part of it. The weird part was when the robots from the factories began to disappear and children around the area began to disappear as well. Some of the families reported seeing metal skeleton like creatures crawling onto the balconies of their houses and snatching their children up into the night."

Mr. Fredbear looked up from the photos at Emily. "What? How? How could that be?" he asked, a small fear growing inside him. Emily shrugged and shook her head. "We have no idea. Back at headquarters, we are still trying to figure it out." Fredbear went silent as he closed the file of photos and handed it back to Emily. Emily accepted it back and placed it into her royal blue coat.

"We fear that the person or persons behind these horrible acts are starting to go towards smaller places with robots...like yours. They seemed to have found out about your toys and wants to frame you for the disappearance of the children," Emily said.

Fredbear sighed as he slumped into his seat. He took off his spectacles and rubbed his face into his hands. "This...this can't be true..." he muttered to himself. Emily nodded her head sadly. "I'm afraid it is...for the time being. We are still trying to track down the culprit and stop him before he does any other crimes," she said.

Fredbear remained silent as he let everything that Emily told him sink in. This was insane. The room filled with silence as people passed by the shop, not bothering to go in. A couple steam powered contraptions rode by, as well as some horse drawn carriages, but none stopped to gaze at Mr. Fredbear's wonderful mechanical toys.

"I know how much your creations mean to you, and what you have built up for yourself..." Emily said as she stared at an old rusted metal bear in a top hat on a round pedestal. The bear was old and dusty. Its inner workings looked black and singed. At the base of its feet had a card labeled "Freddy" in fancy script ink writing.

Emily tried turning the key at the side of the metal bear. The multiple sounds of clicks filled the room. Once Emily let go, the bear began to move; lifting its little top hat up and down from its head. Mr. Fredbear watched from over Emily's shoulder.

Emily smiled as she watched the bear. "I personally would hate to see this place destroyed because of lies and rumors..."

Mr. Fredbear stared at the old metal bear as it moved. Silent and deep in his thoughts. He looked back over to Emily once she turned back to him. She smiled a small smile as she walked over to him at the counter.

"So what do you say? Partners?" she asked as she held out her hand to Mr. Fredbear. Mr. Fredbear stared up at the girl. He stared at her for a minute...then he shook his head. "I'm sorry. I appreciate the help, but I don't need it; and it's not because you are a lady. I just have a hard time trusting people these days...and if I'm part of this, I plan on working alone and solving my case myself."

Emily lowered her hand. "I understand," she said, but Mr. Fredbear could see it on her face that she was very disappointed and wanted to help him on the case. He wondered if she was new to the organization and this was her first, exciting mission.

Mr. Fredbear snapped out of his thoughts when she handed him a black card with her name and phone number written in white ink. "If you ever change your mind," she simply said as she began to walk out of the store. The bell rang over head as Emily walked out of the shop, the door closing behind her. Mr. Fredbear watched her till she was gone from his sight. He stared down at the card for a moment, then whistled. Thomas's metal feet clanked against the floor as he came up next to Mr. Fredbear's feet.

Mr. Fredbear handed Thomas the card. "Put this on my work station," he said. Thomas took the card in his little mitten shaped hands and waddled away to the back. When Thomas was gone, Mr. Fredbear picked up the toy Emily winded up and placed it back onto the shelf she took it from...


	7. Chapter 7: Childhood Memories

**Mechanical**

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Chapter 7: Childhood Memories

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* * *

...

August 9th 1862

 _The hot summer months are the worst when I am working in the barn. My goggles fog up from the humidity, and from the hot fires I start for the metals. I had to open the windows close to the barn's roof in order to bring some cool night air in. Once in a while I see deer from the forest come by and eat the sweet grass in the fields from my barn. They hear me work and run when the sounds get louder._

 _In the early mornings, Camille has come to visit me and bring me my breakfast and lunches that my mother had made. I enjoy my little sister's visits and only allow her to come in._

 _Amy unfortunately found out we were hiding things from her. She was not happy seeing that Camille was allowed into the barn and she wasn't, and threatened to tell our parents. I had asked her to not tell and have promised her anything she wanted. She asked me what I was doing. I told her I was studying, even though she knows that I am not._

 _I finally gave in and showed her the barn. She looked around at all my recent creations, calling them 'toys' in the process._ _Some of my creations were mostly bears, but there had been others I have tried making them look more human. I was inspired when me and my family went to the circus a while back._

 _On the walls were my drawings of all the circus performers I saw that day. I remember it fondly. The smells of popcorn, the huge organ in the corner with its long pipes sticking straight up._

 _I drew the ballerinas, the clown bears and even this interesting fellow I noticed. He was a young lad who was in charge of the balloons. He was very funny looking with his minimal amount of clown make up on and his stout structure in ballooning pants and striped coattails._

 _The newest addition to the clown bears act that I favored was the clown girl who was in charge of them; telling them to run in a circle around her, and allow her to ride them. She looked to be only ten years old._

 _I postponed my work on my big creation to create the performers from the circus. Since I had been working on my other creation for a while, I already understood what to do and how to assemble the metal bodies._

 _Amy instantly remembered when she saw my circus creations and pointed them out to me. I nodded my head and made them dance for her. The ballerina had a crank key on her lower back that I had to wind up. Her head instantly snapped up and she came to life, startling Amy. The ballerina twirled and moved as gracefully as she could in the barn._

 _The ballerina was tall and slender, her hands were long and thin as well. Under her arms, the metal gears and wheels moved when she moved her metallic arms. Her legs were supported with wheels on the sides to help her balance, and the huge metal gears that rotate on her spine to help her turn her torso three hundred and sixty degrees around. She only danced for a short while before falling over and stopped working_.

 _The ballerina was Camille's favorite. I worked on her the most since I tried having her dance. Camille had showed me a couple ballet poses when I started to work on the metal ballerina. Camille had taken up ballet and was really enjoying it. She helped me understand how to teach the ballerina how to dance. Balance was the toughest, but eventually, we got the ballerina to dance for us on her own. Camille gave up her old blue and white tutu for the ballerina to wear._

 _The clown bear and clown girl danced together. Small pipes came out from their backs, letting huge puffs of steam to pour out. I learned steam was one of the key items that helped very well with making the metal human creatures move and function on their own. Their bellies were small ovens with wood inside to help the fire continue to burn. Their joints and places where it bended creaked and sighed while their metal gears worked together as clockwork to help them move._

 _The bear was a pinkish metal tint since Camille's favorite color was pink and was curious to see if I could change the color of the metal to a pink color._ _The face I had formed for it looked a lot better than the old one I had made. I polished the metal and made it stand on its back legs like a human. It had lace and ruffles around its neck and one of my father's old black top hats._

 _The clown girl is still a work in progress. Her body is bigger than Camille's and her metal face is round and dark. I wasn't able to make the metals look white, so I decided to paint the metal. Of course, paint doesn't work well with metals that well and started to eventually wear away, giving her a creepy appearance. I tried making her sing, just like the real clown girl did at the circus, but unfortunately, I had a rough time making her speak a word._

 _The last one I made is made of wood. It is thin, and moves by strings. A puppet. It was inspired from the small act that the circus had put on after the clown girl and dancing bears. There was this back drop that came down with beautifully painted pictures of forests, lakes and rolling hills, and a magnificent blue sky. This creepy looking puppet came out by his strings and danced. I didn't like the look of the one that performed and decided to make a better looking one._

 _This one is unfinished, with a flat face and two carved out eyes that looked like almond shaped sockets. I had let Camille paint it. She used all what was left of the paints I had bought from the general store. She painted his face white, and gave it bright red cheeks and lips. Then she painted the eyes purple which began to drip down its face. I have it hanging up by its strings to dry._

 _Once my circus creations were done dancing, Amy promised not to tell our parents. I thanked her._

 _That same night, I had dreams of them. I was the ringmaster, and circling around me were the dancing ballerinas, the clown bears, and the clown girl, only they were made of metal. Their goggle eyes glowed brightly from inside as they danced or ran around me. When the lights went out, all I could see were streaks of lights from their eyes turning red and stopping to face me. Then a light would come on and shine down on the lanky puppet, rising above all the others by its strings, grinning down at me with its dripping painted face- I woke up in a sweat..._

* * *

...

The next morning, Mr. Fredbear got ready. He got into his best grey suit that still fitted him well. His belt had to be adjusted a little and his suspenders needed adjusting as well. Mr. Fredbear walked down the stairs and out to his workshop. There, he went to the back and turned on the small coffee making robot to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Thomas came waddling by with the morning paper. "Thank you, Thomas," Mr. Fredbear said as he took it and read the first headline. His chest began to hurt when he saw the black and white image of all the townspeople circled around the place where the child was kidnapped.

 _Local Child Kidnapped by Toy Maker's Creation,_ the headline said, causing Mr. Fredbear to frown and How did they know it was his? It wasn't fair! He couldn't be the only one with a huge mechanical purple rabbit! Maybe it wasn't even a rabbit! Mr. Fredbear took a sip of his coffee and slapped the newspaper down roughly on his work station before getting up and retrieving his coat on the coat rack near him.

That was it. Mr. Fredbear was done with his creations being blamed for another person's crimes. He was going to stop this once and for all. Mr. Fredbear pulled his coat on and grabbed a couple of his tools he felt necessary to bring to help him: A pair of tweezers, a couple small glass jars, a handkerchief, and a pair of gloves. Once he was set, he double checked the back of his shop to see if the doors were locked. He looked up to his creations.

Bonnie was cleaned up from the blood he had found on him. Mr. Fredbear pushed the thoughts away as he lightly patted the metal rabbit's arm. "Don't worry, Bon. I'm going to fix everything," he promised. With that, he said his goodbyes to his creations before walking back through his cluttered workshop to the front of the store. Balloon Boy said his greetings as Mr. Fredbear walked by. Thomas waddled out from his home and looked up at his master. Mr. Fredbear smiled as he looked down at the small metallic bear.

"You are in charge while I'm gone, Thomas," he told the little bear. Thomas' eyes clicked and rotated from inside the goggles he wore; focusing on his human master. Mr. Fredbear smiled. He really didn't have to put the little mechanical bear in charge since Mr. Fredbear made it difficult to break into the toyshop; and even if anyone wanted to steal his bigger creations, they would need With that, Thomas nodded once and pivoted stiffly on one leg before waddling away, his feet clinking lightly against the ground and fading away to the back of the dark workshop.

With that, Mr. Fredbear left to clear his name and stop any more horrible rumors against his creations. Mr. Fredbear didn't really know how he was going to do that, but he might as well start at the crime scenes; look for things that seemed out of place.

The worn brass bell ringed overhead as Mr. Fredbear closed the front door of his shop and locked it behind him. Right when he was about to step off the curb, he saw something coming down the street. Strange music was being played as the morning crowds began to gather and move out of the way for the parade of colorfully and strangely dressed characters came down the street.

It was a circus.

Mr. Fredbear smiled a small smile as he thought back to his childhood when he went to the circus. It was one of the most wonderful and most cherished childhood memories that he could remember; and what developed his craft.

of course, the performers and acts have changed very much so over the years. It was a whole different world in itself. The circus. A wonderful, whimsical world where nothing bad ever happened. A place your dreams could only take you. A place every child wanted to escape to...and escape is what Mr. Fredbear remembered the most...

Mr. Fredbear watched as the circus performers walked down the cobble-stoned streets. Clowns in colorfully striped and polka dotted clothes danced about and juggled balls, while prancing white ponies pulled a decorated pipe organ on wheels; A man in a powdered blue top hat and matching coattails played it. Trumpets blasted while the drums beat to the rhythm. Beautiful ballerina dancers pivoted and twirled around with ribbons flying around their thin bodies.

Twins, a boy and a girl with striking red hair against their white whimsical uniforms, rode the back of a big brown grizzly bear in a pink frilly tutu and heavy ruffles around its throat.

A couple of the contraptions were made of metal and had more than four wheels. On one that was peddled by a male clown in black and white striped garb, a crows nest towered over him where a clown girl wearing a top hat and goggles with spikes on the sides, stretched her leg over her head and waved to the crowds below.

A couple of the creatures Mr. Fredbear saw were mechanical. There was a mechanical horse, moving its bronze head up and down as it walked. Mr. Fredbear watched the mechanical legs bend and the gears turn, making the creature move.

Its eyes were small and marble like, with fire trapped inside. It breathed out of its nose, causing steam to billow out of it like a dragon. Upon it, sat a girl with a brown and blue dress with pieces of leather attached to it and peacock feathers sticking out of her brown leather top hat. She smiled as she waved a strange contraption around that looked like a distorted trumpet with many mouths. It blew bubbles and played music when she blew into it.

The last performer trailing behind all the others was a puppet master and his puppet. The puppet had a pale, smiling face, with bright round cheeks and full lips. It moved its lanky wooden arms and danced to the music like a spider. Mr. Fredbear watched it for a while till it was out of his perspective.

Once the parade of circus performers gradually left, the whole town seemed to gradually change back to being its dim and dull colored self again. Mr. Fredbear walked across the streets back over to the place where the recent child was kidnapped. He looked around with his hands inside his pockets, searching for clues.

He ignored the police tape that circled around the crime scene and walked into the ring. Mr. Fredbear casually looked around on the ground. He noticed the discarded screws, still in the street. He retrieved them and continued looking around.

After a while, he couldn't find any other clues and moved on to the first crime scene that happened in the town. He looked around but couldn't find anything. He looked in every square inch around the place. A couple times he had to stop and not look suspicious to passerbys, but it was hard. Some would take notice and whisper to each other. Mr. Fredbear adverted their stares and continued to look at the ground.

Soon it became noon time. Mr. Fredbear had left the crime scenes and took a long walk by himself, thinking. His hands fumbled with the glass container that held the screws he found at the crime scene inside his pocket. He walked along the street till the buildings changed and became tall oak trees and emerald green grass.

Mr. Fredbear walked across a white bridge where two swans swan lazily under upon the blue river. The sun's rays ran across the blue waters, causing the surface to sparkle and glitter like beaten gold. The cattails waved gently in the cool breeze while the ducks nestled in a safe place in the shade, resting or eating sweet grass.

Mr. Fredbear sat down at a bench under an oak tree in the park. The afternoon sun poked through the dark green leaves, dappling the toy-maker's suit. Mr. Fredbear sighed as he leaned back and rested for a while.

He lifted his glasses and rubbed his sore eyes that were tired from looking for clues. He took a small nap before waking up again and looking at the screws in the glass jar. He pulled them out and examined them. They were small, and dark grey.

He wasn't familiar with them, but that wasn't enough to prove his innocence. Mr. Fredbear sighed as he lowered the jar away from him and looked out across the greenery before him. Children ran about, screaming and laughing as they played tag and hide and seek amongst the trees. Parents watched their children closely, and occasionally looked over to Mr. Fredbear with concern. Mr. Fredbear tried ignoring their stares, but deep down, it hurt him so much.

After a couple of minutes, Mr. Fredbear decided to leave the park and continue on with his investiating. He slowly got up from the bench and strolled down the dirt beaten pathway.

...

The day wore on as he continued to search for more clues and connections. Mr. Fredbear didn't notice that the day had turned to night when he heard the town's clocktower chime six o' clock. Mr. Fredbear stopped in his tracks as the low chimes chimed, making the whole world feel as though was moving in slow motion.

Once the clock stopped chiming and seeing that he didn't make any more progress besides the screws, Mr. Fredbear decided to head back home. The lamp-lights were already lit and glowed in an orange warm glow against the cold night.

Mr. Fredbear was somewhat familiar with the town that he lived in. He had lived in the town for a couple of years and recognized some of the buildings and the inhabitants that lived in them. The town's name was what slipped his mind once in a while. Sometimes he thought he was in Ashtonville...but that was years ago...

Mr. Fredbear wrapped his coat tighter around him when the cold became bitter and his breath became visible. Mr. Fredbear stopped for a moment under a lamplight for a moment to rest. He looked around and tried remembering which street he was on.

Once he began looking around, he found that he was alone. There was no one else outside. Mr. Fredbear started to feel uneasy as rain began to sprinkle down upon him, decorating his coat like little clear diamonds. He placed his goggles on over his glasses, but then the lenses in the goggles began to collect the clear beads of rain on them. He wiped the water away with his gloved hands and continued to look where he was.

As he did, he spotted a strange dark figure standing on the other side of the street, coated in darkness. Mr. Fredbear blinked as he stared at this other figure. It was tall, and slender. Inhumanly slender. The figure brought chills to the toy maker. The dark figure seemed to know Mr. Fredbear's presence as it seemed to disappear in a blink of an eye. Mr. Fredbear shifted nervously where he stood under the lamp light. The shadows had to have been playing tricks on him.

His eyes continued to stare where he saw the tall figure. Then he saw it again, but only a glimpse of it, walking around a corner. Mr. Fredbear hesitated as he stared where the lanky dark figure had disappeared. It was then when he saw it appear, then disappear a second time, he decided to follow it.

He walked across the cobblestone street to the sidewalk towards the dark side of the street. The figure to Mr. Fredbear seemed very familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it as he continued to follow the mysterious figure.

The moon was a sickle shaped piece of silver in the sky, giving little to no light to the town below it, making it harder for Mr. Fredbear to make out what it his guide was. All he could make out for the face was that it was round, and very pale. Once in a while he would make out another thing on the alien like creature: stripes on its forearms, and black almond shaped eyes. The sight of it was terrifying, yet felt unreal...

Mr. Fredbear had no idea why he was following this terrifying paranormal being into the dark night. The idea of it reminded of Fredbear of all those stories his mother used to tell him when he was young. Of strange looking creatures luring children away from their homes, kidnapping them and eating them. Mr. Fredbear shivered from the cold and the very idea, but continued to press on.

The figure moved in a fluid motion amongst the dark shadows, shops, and tall buildings; almost as if it were flying. Only seconds the old toy-maker could see it before it turned a corner. It moved fast, yet still was patient for Mr. Fredbear to follow it.

Once Mr. Fredbear rounded, yet another corner, he lost the figure. He looked around. Not sure where it went. Then, he saw something move at the corner of his eye. He turned his head slightly; as he saw the pale faced, lanky figure staring at him. When he turned fully around to face the figure, it wasn't there.

Mr. Fredbear headed towards the direction to an unfamiliar part of the town. It was the more disgusting and poorer part of town. Trash fluttered and scuttled about along the cracked and dirty roads. Lamp-lights flickered and snuffed out, drenching itself in the inky darkness behind the other dark buildings. Mr. Fredbear didn't like the look of the place he was being led into and wanted to turn back.

The dark figure turned when he began to take a step away. The dark figure stood in its place, staring. When Mr. Fredbear noticed, the lanky figure's eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. Mr. Fredbear stared at the strange creature that was so familiar to him, but he still couldn't put his finger on it...

Finally, the lanky figure began to move again. Mr. Fredbear changed his mind and began to follow again. He turned a corner and noticed the strange figure had gone down an alleyway. Mr. Fredbear followed. Once he did, it was gone; it had disappeared without a trace.

Mr. Fredbear stopped in his tracks and looked around. That couldn't be it. A strange spirit or whatever it is wouldn't just make him follow and just disappear like that. It wanted to show him something. He felt it in his gut that the strange figure wanted to show him something...or eat him, but if that was the case, it was taking too long.

In front of him, cats hissed from tops of overflowing trashcans, trash shifted from the chilly breeze, and dark spatters of what appeared to be blood was seen on the bricked up cracked walls in the narrow alleyway. Mr. Fredbear hesitated for a second before turning back to the entrance of the alleyway where a lamp light was close to flickering out. He grabbed the leg of a broken chair and ripped the leg right off, splintering the wood in the process. Then, he got up on a nearby trashcan close to the lamplight and made his very own torch. Once that was done, he jumped off and began to continue forth down the dark alleyway.

As walked, he felt his foot slightly; slip and slide against the disgusting filth that was spread all through the alleyway, and slicked against the worn and cracked cobblestones. Mr. Fredbear raised his self made torch high, bringing light to the dreary alleyway. A pipe was seen on the right wall of the alleyway, pouring disgusting green sludge out of it.

Mr. Fredbear looked around for a while. He didn't understand. Why did the mysterious thin figure bring him here? Where was it? Mr. Fredbear had a sudden fear that it was right behind him. He quickly spun around and looked behind him. No one was there. Mr. Fredbear slowly turned back around and faced back to the wall.

The wall was part of what looked to be an abandoned building. All of the windows were dusty with shattered glass that looked like silver spiderwebs etched across the surface. The brick work was beginning to wear away and there were cracks and deep grooves along the edge of it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary from where Mr. Fredbear stood.

 _Look closer..._ a faint whisper told him in his head. The voice wasn't his own, it sounded like...the voice of a child...a child he couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl...

Without questioning, he walked closer up to it and looked all around. There, along the brickwork, was a thin line running from the top and running along the sides in a rectangle. A secret doorway. Mr. Fredbear found a thin metal pipe in the wall and pulled. The door took some effort, but finally came loose and swung open. Mr. Fredbear peered down into the darkness.

Even with his torch, the light only lit up so much, not enough to fill the whole place. It made Mr. Fredbear nervous. What was this doing here? why was it hidden? Why did the dark thin figure lead him here? How did it this was here? So many questions swam around in Mr. Fazbear's brain. He had no idea what was going on, and wasn't sure if he wanted to dive deeper into this. He thought about calling Emily, then dismissed it. No. He didn't need her help. He didn't ask for her help. This was his problem to solve. He didn't want any other people getting involved and getting hurt...again...

Mr. Fredbear's hand tightened around the torch as he took a deep, shaky breath and exhaled. The lanky character knew something about what was going on. He could sense it. The spirit was wanting to show him something. Something that could help with his problem...

With that, Mr. Fredbear crossed the threshold into the secret room inside the huge building and entered into the darkness. Lurking above, was the lanky figure, watching Mr. Fredbear with its glowing white eyes...

...


	8. Chapter 8: More Than What Meets The Eye

**Mechanical**

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Chapter 8: More Than What Meets The Eye

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Mr. Fredbear descended down the wooden steps into the old abandoned building. His torch, illuminated the place in an amber glow. The whole place was falling apart and broken. Shelves were seen in the strange, small basement, layered in grey dust, and infested with spiders and black bugs. The wooden supports had caved in and were barely holding the second and third stories up. No soul seemed to inhabit the place.

Mr. Fredbear continued to look around as he carefully descended down the cracked, wooden stairs. Each time he stepped, the stair would creak and sigh loudly. Mr. Fredbear breathed in the horrible, musty air that had been trapped inside for who knows how long. The cold air blew through the toy maker's clothes and hair. The flames of the torch flickered, as if it were trembling in fear.

Once his feet touched the stone floor of the basement, a cloud of dust billowed from his boots, then gradually went back down. Mr. Fredbear held his torch up high, careful not to bump into any of the splintered wooden shelves. The basement was small, with a huge boiler in the corner and a bunch of metal pipes running from it and snaking along the walls. Glass bottles and jars filled with expired food were seen shattered on the ground. Rat droppings and feline feces were seen around the shelving units. An unlit, shattered lantern was seen laying on its side near a table on its back, with its legs high in the air.

Mr. Fredbear looked at every single item in the room. He peered at the shelves, looked at the cracks in the walls, and even looked under the wooden staircase. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; besides the idea that this place was hidden to the public eye.

The secret room didn't seem to be connected to any other rooms of the building. It looked like it was hidden within the walls of the building, and whoever used to live in the rooms above wouldn't have known that this room had existed.

Why would someone hide this small storage room?

Mr. Fredbear stopped pondering when he felt the underside of his boots stick to something. Mr. Fredbear wrinkled his nose in disgust as he lifted his boots, the right one first, then the left one, then the right one again. The bottoms of his boots were stuck to something. Mr. Fredbear lowered his torch and looked down at what he had stepped in.

A blue rug was seen underneath him, covered in a dark sticky substance. Mr. Fredbear moved away from the rug and peered down at it for a while. Mr. Fredbear stared at the dark sticky substance, wondering what it was. Blood? That would be something out of the ordinary. Mr. Fredbear took out a bottle and began to take some of the sticky substance from the rug and place it into the glass bottle.

Once he got a smaple of the substance into the jar, Mr. Fredbear started to get up, but his eyes never looked away from the rug. Something about it seemed like there was more to it than what he just saw. The same eerie whispery voice entered into Mr. Fredbear's head. Making him question the rug further:

 _There's more than to what meets the eye..._

Mr. Fredbear walked around the rug for a while; staring at it from every angle.

It took him a while to suddenly realize from the way it was, it didn't look disturbed. Everything else was either moved to an angle or was turned over. The rug was perfectly straight, as if no boots scuffed or moved it to be folded over or kicked aside. On top of that, it looked like it was in better shape then any of the other objects, besides the random stain on it. Mr. Fredbear walked across it, listening to first the sounds of his boots thudding against the cement ground, then hearing it against the rug. The ground underneath the rug made a low, hollow sound. Mr. Fredbear got off of the rug and turned it over.

There, laid something very much out of the ordinary. A hidden door. Mr. Fredbear suddenly felt a chill run up his spine. A hidden door in a hidden storage room. He gripped the torch in his hand as he turned around to make sure no one had been watching him when he discovered the door. When he saw that the was the only one, he turned back to the small door in the floor. The door was wooden with a small brass handle in the wooden door, with intricate designs of vines and leaves.

Mr. Fredbear instantly imagined horrible images of piles of dead children behind the door. The morbid thoughts caused Mr. Fredbear to take a step away from the hidden door and cover his mouth. No. He couldn't start jumping to conclusions. Who would be so mad to do such a thing like that? Mr. Fredbear took a moment to calm down before approaching the hidden door again.

 _Hurry..._ The voice told him in his head.

The sudden idea of someone still living here appeared in his brain. If the hidden door was still here, and was covered over a rug that acted out of place, that most likely meant someone still inhabited the place and still used the hidden door to cover up their secrets. Hopefully they weren't coming back anytime soon.

With a deep breath, Mr. Fredbear reached down, grasped the handle, and pulled. The door came up with some effort and creaked loudly. Mr. Fredbear let the door swing over, letting the hinges screech all the way till the door hit the other side of the floor with a thud. Dust erupted from the floor and plumed up from where it laid on the blue rug.

Mr. Fredbear moved his torch over the pitch black hole of the hidden door. The torch's light didn't seem to go far enough to illuminate the bottom. Mr. Fredbear sighed as he gradually sat down and let his legs dangle into the ink black mouth. His legs disappeared into the darkness, making his legs look like they had been taken from a war.

Mr. Fredbear pushed the morbid thought from his head before feeling around for something to help him descend down. He felt his boot lightly nudge up against a metal ladder. With caution, Mr. Fredbear shifted around and gripped the top rung of the ladder with one hand, while gripping the torch with the other. Gradually, Mr. Fredbear descended down...

...


	9. Chapter 9: Trapped

**Mechanical**

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Chapter 9: Trapped

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It took Mr. Fredbear five minutes to finally reach the bottom of the secret room. When Mr. Fredbear looked up, the faint square of light from the hidden door was seen from above. The second hidden room was a lot darker and colder. Mr. Fredbear shivered from the cold as he lifted his torch once more and began to look around. The second hidden room was a lot bigger than the one underneath. The place was very musty and smelled of earth and rot.

Mr. Fredbear noticed an intact lantern hanging from a hook from the wooden supports that stood in the middle of the room. Mr. Fredbear opened the small dusty glass door and lit the pale white candle inside. The light glowed brightly from inside the charcoal colored metal and glass belly of the lantern once Mr. Fredbear closed its door. The room became visible, and Mr. Fredbear was able to look around easier.

Books were seen on wooden shelves in the back, cluttered amongst the scrolls, glass jars, pots, and small chests with brass clasps. Above Mr. Freadbear's head were thousands upon thousands of pipes and tubes, all in different metals and sizes. Some looked like the same ones from above. Unfortunately that wasn't the weird thing in the eerie room.

The weird thing in the room were the twelve wooden tables all lined up neatly in rows of three and spaced out three and a half feet from each other. Each table had old leather straps laying across the surfaces, and some of the straps held down a couple familiar mechanical dolls. Mr. Fredbear's mechanical toys. The toys were not awake as they laid there faced up right with their arms strapped down at their sides.

Mr. Fredbear instantly started to feel ill as he stared at his toys. How could this have happened? Why were his toys here? Why were they strapped down? They didn't seem to be broken or misused. A small metal oil can sat near the feet of one of the toys. There was no dust on them either, so whoever was down there took care of them. There were even spare parts for the toys piled under the tables. Extra heads, arms and legs.

Mr. Fredbear couldn't stand the sight of his toys strapped down any longer. He was about to start unstrapping his small creations, when he noticed something at the corner of his eye. A dark figure with long tentacles hovering over the table near him. Startled, Mr. Fredbear moved away and moved his arm out with the light towards the creature.

It was a machine. A complicated looking mechanical machine Mr. Fredbear couldn't recognize. It was a unique machine of its own design. To Mr. Fredbear it looked like a terrifying mechanical squid, with millions of dangling tentacles. It had switches, knobs, and turn wheels to help it come alive and function. Thankfully it was out of commission.

Most of the pipes and tubes from the ceiling connected to the machine, the brain of the whole hidden place. From the underside of the mechanical machine, the tubes and wires snaked down, resting its ends on the wooden table it was looming over. From one of the tubes there was something connected to it at the end. Mr. Fredbear took a step closer and tried getting a better look at the object.

It was made of different metals, beaten into a round shape. The sides had smaller wires and dish shaped parts on the sides. There was an opening too. It was large and from it, had a leather strap coming out of it. After a while of looking at it, Mr. Fredbear realized what it was. It was a helmet. A small helmet...to fit the head of a child.

Mr. Fredbear almost dropped the torch he held as he took a couple steps away in horror. It was starting to come together...A child...children. Missing children. These tables. Small tables. Big enough for a child to lay on...were lab tables. Lab tables that once held missing children down against their will...and the machine above them...The dark stains...

Mr. Fredbear started to feel very nauseous. He was having a hard time breathing. He staggered away from the tables and bumped into one of the shelves of books. One of the books made a soft click sound. Suddenly the shelf swung out a bit, gently hitting Mr. Fredbear's shoulder. Mr. Fredbear jolted in alarm and moved away from the book case. The bookcase continued to swing open, the mechanisms behind the bookcase clicking and turning, causing it to open like a door, revealing a small hidden room.

Mr. Fredbear peeked inside. The secret room that had opened up was closet sized. Inside was a small wooden podium, and on the surface of it was a quill, an inkwell, and a leather bound book with loose leaf pages inside it. Mr. Fredbear stared at the book for a moment. So many secrets were opening up before him, he was having a hard time keeping up. First the secret supply room above, then this secret laboratory before him, and now this book.

Mr. Fredbear knew that whoever this deranged person was, was both a genius and a madman. The pieces were starting to come together, but so many pieces were still missing from the puzzle. Why was this all happening? Why was Mr. Fredbear all a part of this horrific madness?

Mr. Fredbear took the book and placed it into one of his coat pockets. Hopefully the book had some answers to his questions. Mr. Fredbear's torch was beginning to die, but Mr. Fredbear didn't mind. He had enough being down in the secret lab. He wanted to go home and try to forget all that he saw.

Mr. Fredbear walked, careful not to cause the light to flicker and go out. He was just about to head up the ladder, when he saw a dark silhouette pass by the opening above him. Mr. Fredbear froze in fear. It was the murderer. The dark figure moved about. Mr. Fredbear didn't know what to do, he felt stuck where he was. Mr. Fredbear quickly moved away and hid behind one of the tables. If the murderer tried coming down to where Mr. Fredbear was, he would be ready.

Unfortunately, the murderer did not come down. Instead, something else came down to the secret lab. A small bundle of lit dynamite. Mr. Fredbear cried out as he quickly ran to the metal ladder to get out of the place. Once he was halfway up, he felt a dark brooding shadow loom over him. Mr. Fredbear looked up just in time to see the dark figure close the trapdoor on him, and the loud thud of something heavy falling on top of the hidden trap door.

"No! Let me out!" Mr. Fredbear screamed as he climbed the rest of the way up and tried banging on the dark wood of the trap door above him. The square wooden door wouldn't budge. Below Mr. Fredbear, the sound of the lit end of the dynamite was loud and ringing in Mr. Fredbear's ears. He needed to get out fast!

Mr. Fredbear quickly got down and by instinct, kicked the dynamite away from him. In that short amount of time he had, he was able to hide inside the closet spaced area where he had found the book.

The dynamite went off in a huge impact, causing the tables to go up and crash against each other. The machine broke and exploded in a array of sparks. Above, the tubes came apart. Steam and sparks mixed together and caused harm to the things around them. The bookshelves fell backwards against the walls before falling forward and collapsing to the ground. Pages and robotic parts went flying and broke against the walls and the hard floors.

The lantern Mr. Fredbear had lit had crashed against the floor and the light that was once trapped was now free and was running across the floor and up the angled wooden supports and splintered tables.

The impact from the explosion knocked Mr. Fredbear backwards, hitting his head against the back of the wall. Mr. Fredbear slowly slid down the wall and went limp. Darkness engulfed his vision as his head slumped against his chest and his mind went black...

When he came to, he felt the warmth of the fire, making its way through to him from the bookcase. Mr. Fredbear quickly got up and pushed against the back of the bookcase. The bookcase was stuck. Mr. Fredbear pushed with all of his strength till the bookcase gave in and allowed a little bit of space for him to get through. Once Mr. Fredbear was able to squeeze through, he saw that one of the tables had been stuck against the bookcase, making it a challenge for him to get out.

The whole lab was being eaten up in flames. Smoke clouded the ceiling, making it hard for Mr. Fredbear to breathe. Mr. Fredbear coughed as he staggered through the debris of upturned tables and pieces of hot metal. The tubes and wires from the ceiling hung down like hundreds of dead lifeless snakes as Mr. Fredbear looked desperately around for a way out.

The fire burned the toymaker's eyes, and the ashes clung to the sides of his glasses and clothes. He felt along the walls, desperately searching for another secret room, a window, a secret door. Anything, but the more he looked, the harder it got for Mr. Fredbear to breathe or even see. His hopes were being taken away with the fire; gradually turning to ashes.

He was trapped...

...

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 **A/N: Hey guys thanks for reading and enjoying my story so far :) I am sorry for the delays in chapters. I am starting to now shorten them so its easier for me to upload them faster. Hope you will enjoy the rest of my story and have a nice day :)**


	10. Chapter 10: Disappearing Tricks

**Mechanical**

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Chapter 10: Disappearing Tricks

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The fire continued to burn brightly in the secret lab as Mr. Fredbear continued looking around frantically for a way out. The toymaker coughed and began to shout and scream, hoping someone would hear him. His voice was taken away by the flames and the sounds of the machine crashing next to him. He jumped away and coughed some more, struggling to breathe.

 _Behind the bookshelf..._ the mysterious voice told him.

Mr. Fredbear staggered around the tables to the other side of the room where the bookshelves were, desperate to find another secret room. In a desperate act, he tore the books off of all the shelves. Tears came to his eyes from the flames and the ashes that were beginning to fill up in his lungs.

His spirits raised when he finally found something. Behind one of the shelves was what looked to be a small human made tunnel. Mr. Fredbear coughed some more as he began to push the bookshelf. The bookshelf finally gave in and fell forward, spilling out the rest of the books

Without hesitation, Mr. Fredbear dove right into the secret tunnel, right when one of the beams decided to fall. Mr. Fredbear heard a crash behind him. Wires and tubes swayed, sending sparks everywhere. Mr. Fredbear was on his hands and knees inside the small tunnel. The tunnel was small and his shoulders scraped against the sides. Mr. Fredbear squeezed through the tunnel, moving as fast as he could.

He continued to crawl till the tunnel opened up to a bigger area. Mr. Fredbear got up, but had to duck since the human made ceiling was very low. Mr. Fredbear coughed and wheezed. The portly toymaker kept his hands on his thighs. His heart was racing fast inside his broad chest.

He knew he didn't have time to stop. The fire was continuing to spread. He could feel the heat burning through the tunnel. Mr. Fredbear turned around in the dark tunnel and began to feel around. Mr. Fredbear felt the rungs of a ladder, leading straight up. Relieved, the toymaker started climbing up. The bars felt rusted and old.

Mr. Fredbear kept on climbing until he hit his head on something at the top, causing him to stop. He winced and rubbed his head with his right hand before reaching up and touching the strange surface of whatever had stopped him. He knocked on it. It was made of wood. Mr. Fredbear pounded his fist against it a couple of times, coughing in the process.

The wood began to give, and took the shape of a small rectangle hatch. The hatch finally loosened and shifted away from where it rested, causing something on top of it to shift and fold. The toymaker climbed further up, lifting his hands up to push the wooden door away, and the rug that covered it. Dust came down on the toymaker as he coughed and wheezed. He climbed out and stood. He looked around for just a second before realizing that he was still in the building, but was in one of the rooms next to the secret storage room.

A loud, muffled boom was heard underneath Mr. Fredbear's feet. The fire from below was still growing, and most likely took down the other book cases in the process. Mr. Fredbear needed to get out of the building. Breathing heavily, he quickly made his way out of the room.

Mr. Fredbear tried the doors. They were all locked, and the windows were all boarded up. Frantic, the toymaker grabbed a chair and tried breaking the boarded up windows. The chair broke into pieces in his hands once the chair made contact. Frustrated, he threw the chair's remains down. Next, he tried prying the boards with his hands, but the boards had a bunch of nails that stayed securely in place.

Under his feet, smoke began to rise through the floor boards. Another explosion went off underneath. Both of the secret rooms Mr. Fredbear discovered were going up in flames. Everything becoming scorched remains and ashes...and if Mr. Fredbear didn't get out soon, he was going with it.

Mr. Fredbear ran upstairs to the next level of the old building. Some sections of the stairs had huge gaps in them, causing the toy-maker to maneuver around them cautiously. Once he got to the top, a couple rats skittered away and disappeared into their homes in the walls. All of the furniture were covered up in dusty white sheets, making the whole room look like it was haunted by ghosts.

Mr. Fredbear pushed the furniture ghosts away, causing them to crash loudly against the floor and each other. He went over to one of the nearest windows across from him.

Behind him, the toymaker could hear the flames had reached the next floor and were quickly making their way up the steps. Mr. Fredbear saw the white sheets beginning to grow dark and flicker. The flames were casting their own shadows and light upon the ghost sheets and the walls.

Mr. Fredbear scrambled to the window and opened it up. The glass trembled from the sudden action, resisting to shatter. Mr. Fredbear climbed out the window and began to make his way down the building, shimmying down one of the metal pipes that snaked downward to the ground. The fires peeked out of the windows. A small explosion erupted out of three windows, causing the pieces of dusty glass to rain down on Mr. Fredbear. Mr. Fredbear braced himself, before continuing down.

Once he was down, he staggered away from the burning building. Mr. Fredbear stopped to watch the building become engulfed in flames. Mr. Fredbear coughed and hacked loudly in the cold night. He doubled over and vomited a little. Once he was done, he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and continued to gulp in the fresh air around him.

The clock-tower on the other side of town chimed in its low, hollow voice twelve times. Midnight. Mr. Fredbear coughed a couple times again as he slowly straightened up, listening to the last few low chimes before deciding to head off. He pocketed his trench coat pocket to make sure the small book he found was still there. He gave a sigh of relief when he felt the rectangular shape in his pocket.

With that, he briskly made his way across the dark streets. He began to slow when he realized that he had lost his way. He looked around for anything that looked familiar, but all the trash littered streets and crumbling buildings all looked the same.

Just then, he heard a noise, a faint lullaby, echoing through the streets. Mr. Fredbear turned around. Nothing. He turned around again when he heard the sound to the right of him. Nothing. Where was it coming from? How was this...?

Mr. Fredbear saw a pair of red lights shine from down between two buildings from the other street; a good forty feet from him. Mr. Fredbear felt a sudden chill crawl up his spine. Something didn't feel right. Mr. Fredbear took a couple steps closer till he was able to clearly see and confirm who's glowing red eyes belonged to.

Bonnie.

Bonnie stood there, alone near the corner of the building to the left of Mr. Fredbear. Mr. Fredbear stared at the massive metal anthropomorphic creature before feeling the sense of fear course through him. Bonnie was acting different. On top of that, he didn't remember switching the purple metallic rabbit on! And what really made Mr. Fredbear uneasy was the fact that Bonnie was staring straight at him. His lit up red eyes pierced through the sudden fog that was rolling in from the cold night.

Mr. Fredbear took one step back.

"B...Bonnie," he was finally able to say.

Bonnie didn't respond.

 _Run,_ the same voice in his head told him; but the toymaker couldn't seem to do so. Bonnie was acting strange, but at the same time, it was his creation. He shouldn't be afraid of his creations...

Suddenly, a loud crash was heard behind him. Mr. Fredbear jolted and spun around. Standing at the edge of a corner, was Chica. Her metallic legs stood amongst a couple metal trashcans, a couple of them were dented. Her eyes glowed bright through the goggles at Mr. Fredbear. Her mouth was hanging open in a silent scream. The toymaker took a couple steps back in horror.

"N-no..." he started. He couldn't believe what was happening. This shouldn't have been happening. Bonnie and Chica couldn't be outside! There was no way they could have woke up...Did someone activate them? That couldn't be right. He added new locks to his shop...

Mr. Fredbear turned back around to look at Bonnie. The creator felt his heart skip a beat and sweat begin to bead upon his forehead. Bonnie was standing fifteen feet from the toymaker now. Steam billowed out of the purplish-blue metallic rabbit's pipes jutting out of its back.

 _Run!_ the voice told him in his head again.

Mr. Fredbear's breathing quickened, but his legs stayed planted.

Chica came closer, making no noise at all when Mr. Fredbear turned his head to her; Her eyes still focused on Mr. Fredbear. Mr. Fredbear felt the warm exhaled breath of Bonnie standing before him. Both of the creations were silent. No sounds of any of the mechanisms or parts were functioning. No clicks or whirs. Nothing.

Mr. Fredbear shook, not leaving his eyes from Chica. Too afraid to turn back and face Bonnie. Chica stayed where she was, staring back.

 _RUN!_ the voice screamed in his head.

Panicking, Mr. Fredbear squeezed his eyes shut and placed his hands over his head. The seconds passed slowly. Mr. Fredbear tensed up and clenched his teeth, bracing himself. A full minute passed. Then another...

Mr. Fredbear waited. Nothing.

Gradually, Mr. Fredbear opened his eyes and relaxed his shoulders. His eyes darted around. Bonnie and Chica were gone. The toymaker blinked in shook and confusion, not lowering his arms. They were gone. His creations were gone. They disappeared without a trace.

...

It was 1:03 in the morning when Mr. Fredbear got back to his shop. He unlocked his door in a haste and sprinted through his shop to the workshop. He tripped over boxes of buttons and spools of threads and yarn got tangled in his legs. He swatted away his hanging puppets as if they were pesky moths as he struggled to make his way to the back where his main creations lived.

Mr. Fredbear slowed to a stop and felt a sudden pain in his chest. All four of his creations were gone. A couple papers and extra screws were seen where his creations once stood. Now, the back of his workshop was bare.

The door that stood to the left was intact and in place. The locks didn't look like that they had been tampered with. Mr. Fredbear felt his legs start to wobble, but kept his balance. He breathed uneven breaths and coughed a couple times. His throat closed up as tears began to form in his eyes. He had no idea how it all happened. There was no explanation for it...Mr. Fredbear's head swam frantically for answers, but nothing came up.

There had to be something! His creations were out there on their own in the town! If anyone spotted them and recognized them, he was going to be taken in, and his creations were going to become scrap. He needed help.

Mr. Fredbear dug into his pocket for the book. Maybe the book had something in it about what just happened.

Right as Mr. Fredbear took out the small leather bound book, something else slipped out of his pocket. Mr. Fredbear looked down and noticed a small rectangular card. Emily's contact. Mr. Fredbear quickly picked it up with trembling hands. Emily. She was on his side. She was the only other person who could help him.

Mr. Fredbear rushed over to the phone. He rang for the operator till he realized that it was late at night. No one was up at this time to connect him to Emily. Right when he was starting to move the ear piece from his ear, a voice was heard from the other end.

"Uh, Hello? Hello Hello!" the operator said.

Mr. Fredbear blinked and placed his ear piece back and licked his lips. "Yes hello? Operator?" he asked. The voice responded from the other end. "Yes. Is this Mr. Fredbear?" the operator asked. Mr. Fredbear blinked. "I...h-how do you know my name?" he asked. The operator chuckled. "Emily told me. I am her personal operator for her and you. Would you like to connect?" he asked.

Mr. Fredbear stumbled over his words for a moment before replying. "Y-yes. Yes, please do that," he finally said. The operator chuckled again, causing Mr. Fredbear's face to burn in embarrassment. "All right hold on a moment," the operator said.

Mr. Fredbear grasped the phone tightly in his hand while he held the mouth piece close to his face, waiting impatiently. After a couple of minutes, Emily finally answered. "Hello?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear pressed the ear part of the metal telephone to his ear. "Emily! I need your help! My chil-er M-my creations! They are gone!" he screamed into the telephone.

"What? how? Who took them? Did you see the burglar?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear shook his head. "N-no! they were outside! they were walking on their own! I think someone activated them! B-but that's not the weird thing! They...they moved in great distances in a blink of an eye!" he sputtered.

There was silence for a moment, then Emily spoke from the other end. "Ok, calm down. I'll be right over," she said. Then there was a click, then silence. Mr. Fredbear slowly fell to his knees as his grip loosened on the telephone. His whole body trembled and was soaked in his own sweat.

Mr. Fredbear jolted when he heard a strange grinding sound near him. Mr. Fredbear quickly turned and faced Thomas came out from under the work table. He was limping and one of his glass eyes was cracked. He waddled over to his master and gave him a small hug.

Mr. Fredbear noticed and felt his spirits rise a little as he picked up the small metallic bear him his hands and held Thomas like a human child. "Thomas! Oh my goodness! What happened to you?!" he asked the bear, trying to stop the tears forming in his tired old eyes.

Thomas didn't speak as he quivered next to his master. Some of the wires and metal pieces were poking out. Fredbear pulled out one of his tools from his pocket and began to fix Thomas back up.

...

* * *

...

 _December ? 1862..._

 _I continue to work long hours into the night, sneaking out on occasion to the barn to add one more thing to my biggest project. My creation is a tall creature, which was inspired from reading the novel Frankenstein. I have read that novel several times for motivation and inspiration, but with it came the consequences..._

 _I have had nightmares of my creation coming to life and murdering me in my sleep. I have been trying to reassure myself that it wont, but deep down I still fear it. My creation is very terrifying I must admit. Its eyes are smoked rimmed goggles I attached to its head. Inside I have placed two bulbs for its eyes so when they light up, it could see, even in the dark. It's terrifying when I open the barn door and see the two lights on; staring back at me from the table. The gears and metal cogs click and make soft metallic noises when it moves in the slightest. It hasn't learn to speak, but I'm sure in time it eventually will._

 _The body I welded and constructed myself are made from iron, copper, and other metals. Some metals I learned didn't work well when I tried melding them together. I almost sent the whole barn on fire when I first tried this. I have burned myself a couple times. Thankfully in places that I could easily cover up in my coat._

 _Camille has mixed feelings about my creation as well. She asked one winter day for me to turn it into a familiar animal. I asked her what animal. She told me how she really liked rabbits. She reminded me when she asked for a rabbit as a pet for Christmas, but got a cat instead. Christmas is coming up again, I could maybe surprise her with a small metal bunny that could hop around, of course that would be cutting it close since Christmas is almost upon us._

 _I changed the look slightly for my creation, and gave it bunny ears that can bend and move. Camille likes it now, but suggested I gave it some clothes. I took some old clothes I found in the attic and added it to my creation. I gave it a black bowtie, and a yellow vest to add to its gold tinted color. He actually looks less scary now, and the vest helped cover up some of my mistakes from when I tried hammering the metal pieces together. Camille wants to give it a name. I truthfully can't think of anything, so I have allowed her to come up with the name whenever she thinks of one._

 _I have also changed a couple other ideas around for my creation when I found out the hard way that it wouldn't work. It's beyond frustrating, but I can't seem to find myself wanting to quit._

 _February 26th 1863..._

 _The wires and tubes I have placed inside are frustrating. They keep getting tangled up inside and making my creation fall over when I try to sit it upright. I have run out of money, and have now started "borrowing" a lot of items from the house to add to my creations._

 _I also admit I have also started stealing from the general store. Large empty glass jars, a bucket of nails, hammer, a coil of copper wire, and other items I can't remember at the top of my head._

 _I promised to myself to pay the general store owner back once my work is complete..._

 _I have created a new invention on my own. It is a thin metal band that automatically coils up like a snake and has a couple other parts attached to it. I call it a "Spring-lock." I made it when I found out that the nails to close the main metal pieces up for the insides of my creation weren't enough. I needed something more sturdy and strong. The inspiration of it escapes me, I don't remember exactly how I came up with the idea; possibly when I heard one of Father's new bear traps snap in the middle of the night when I was working; but it works well. I might try and get a patent for them._

 _The only problem I found out, was that it easily snaps shut and tightens when it gets some kind of liquid on it. It was raining when I found that out. One of the spring-locks got wet from the water that dripped from the leaky thatched roof. My arm got slashed by it when I was working. I didn't notice until it was too late. Now I have this long jagged scar on my arm. Another thing to hide from my family._

 _February 27th, 1863..._

 _I introduced my new invention to Camille. She thought they were really scary, especially when they snapped shut so suddenly. She told me that they reminded her of an animal trap, how they would snap shut so fast and trap the animal in its jaws. The more I looked at it, I saw what she meant. The spring-locks were like traps. If anyone was close to it, they could get seriously injured, or worse..._

 _Thomas waddles around a lot, occasionally bumping into the table legs. Once he stops moving, Camille would wind him back up and let him roam around the barn again._

 _The barns walls were covered in drawings, ideas, sketches, notes and other information that helped me along the way._ _The whole barn is a mess with a bunch of crumpled up pieces of paper, broken nails, burnt tools, shattered glass, tipped over jars of paints, ruined notebooks, a scattered collection of curled or hammered pieces of metals, metal torsos and limbs that didn't work properly in huge bins; the list goes on._

 _Camille helps around the barn by sweeping up the ground and putting things back nicely. In return, I let her activate the ballerina and the others to dance. I have taught my sister a couple things that I have learned on my own in creating my creations._

 _May 4th 1863_

 _Today is a horrible day._

 _My creation disappeared..._

...


	11. Chapter 11: Buried in the Ashes

**Mechanical**

...

Chapter 11: Buried In the Ashes

...

* * *

...

Over the next half hour, Mr. Fredbear had been trying to keep himself awake with cups of coffee; while trying to keep himself at ease with little projects. His wrinkled, worn hands trembled, making it hard for him to screw in a couple screws or even tying a bowtie around one of the little robotic animals' necks. He couldn't stop thinking about his bigger creations. His children. Out there in the huge city. Scared, and being seen as a threat to society...

Mr. Fredbear jolted when he accidentally poked his finger with the tip of a sharp needle when he was sewing another vest for one of the small animatronic dolls. He cursed and quickly dropped the needle on the counter before pulled out a white handkerchief and wrapping his finger into it, stopping the blood. After that, he decided to work on something else.

He called for Thomas as he carefully slid a half finished small animatronic bear head over in front of him on the work desk. Thomas got up from where he was sitting and began to help his master. Thomas was doing better. He now had a limp and a couple scratches, but other than that, he was doing well. The little bear handed his master a tool from the toolbox with both of his nubby hands.

After a while, Mr. Fredbear started to slow down again and started to think about his missing animatronics. He finally told Thomas to stop as he placed his recent tools down and sighed a long, heavy sigh. Thomas stopped and stood at Mr. Fredbear's feet, looking up at him innocently. Mr. Fredbear picked up Thomas and held him in his arms for comfort. Thomas stared blankly in nothing in particular through his red tinted goggled eyes.

Mr. Fredbear sighed and closed his eyes for a couple minutes. In his mind, all he can think of was his children broken and reduced to scrap. Their remains all broken and melted down into nothing. All his years of hard work, gone. Mr. Fredbear swallowed the lump in his throat. He opened his eyes back up and looked up at the time.

All the wooden clocks ticked either a second early or a second late. It was almost 2:30am. He sighed softly again before placing Thomas back down. Thomas limped away. Mr. Fredbear watched him till he was out from his perspective and then started to look around his shop. The whole place seemed so much more empty...

...

Emily arrived forty five minutes later at Mr. Fredbear's place. Mr. Fredbear unlocked the shop's door and escorted her in. He was silent the whole time. Emily sat down in one of the seats and waited till Mr. Fredbear finished locking up. Once he was done, he silently sat down as well, rubbing the back of his neck. He was exhausted and his body was ready to pass out; but the coffee was starting to kick in, letting his eyes stay open.

Emily adjusted her tinted goggles on her hat before smoothing her deep blue trench coat with her gloved hands. Mr. Fredbear noticed that she, again, was wearing the same outfit that he had seen her wear the first time he had met her. He wondered if she had a tailor make her multiple outfits of the same design and pattern.

She pulled out a notebook and and a pencil. "Allright, Mr. Fredbear...could you please start at the beginning?" she asked him. Mr. Fredbear was quiet for a moment as he stared at her, then looked down at his worn hands.

Finally, he pulled out the small leather journal from his inner pocket of his coat and handed it to her. "I found this in one of the old buildings on the other side of town..." he said. Emily blinked in surprise as she looked down at the worn journal. She placed her pad and pencil down before gingerly taking the book from Mr. Fredbear. She wiped her right gloved hand across the thin layer of dust that rested upon the surface of the journal.

Emily flipped through the journal, stopping once in a while at a certain page, then finally closing the book when she reached the end. "This is very strange...where did you find this?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear explained to her how he found it in a secret small room behind the bookcase. Emily was silent for a while till she gave the book back to him.

"Could you take me back to the building? Maybe I could help find any more clues," she offered. Mr. Fredbear sadly shook his head. "Unfortunately I can't...the building is gone," he said. Before Emily could make a confused expression, Mr. Fredbear explained how the building was instantly burned down when he was looking in the rooms down below.

Emily's eyes widened in shock. "How did the fire start?" she asked.

"It was a person, I think a man. I didn't get to see his face," he replied. Emily's shoulders slumped a little. She sighed a small sigh before placing her hand on her head. "...Well, at least you were able to find that book," she told him. Mr. Fredbear nodded. "And the secret tunnel behind the..." his voice faded for a moment when he remembered the tunnel. He started to feel ill as he began to go back to when he was climbing through the small dug out tunnel that saved him from the fire...the tunnel that was big enough for a child...

"Mr. Fredbear?" Emily asked nervously as she waved her hand in front of his face. Mr. Fredbear snapped out of his state and looked at Emily. Emily blinked in surprise and looked at him. "Are you ok? Do you need a drink of water?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear shook his head and stood up. "No. No. I'm fine," he lied as he turned away from her.

Emily got up from her seat and stared at his back. "Mr. Fredbear?" she asked, hesitant. Mr. Fredbear stared out to the window that looked out to the town. The moon was now lower in the sky. The deep dark blue night sky was gradually changing to a lighter shade of dark blue. The silver stars were beginning to wink out one by one like lanterns.

Mr. Fredbear felt Emily place her hand on his shoulder. He quickly turned himself around, making her take her hand off of his shoulder. Mr. Fredbear faced the young woman that stared back at him. Mr. Fredbear stared at every part of her face, studying it.

"...You remind me of someone...someone I had lost...a long time ago," he admitted, lowering his head. Emily placed her hand on his shoulder. Mr. Fredbear didn't shrug her hand off. He kept his sad, worn out eyes on the ground.

"I have had a rough life, ever since I was young...so many things I wish I could erase from my mind...so many moments I wish that I could go back in time and fix..." he said. He was quiet for a while as he stared down at the ground, thinking back to the past. He shook his head softly before taking a deep shaky breath and exhaling.

"But the one thing I don't regret happening, was when I became inspired to start all this..." he said as he gestured to all of his toys. "My dream...the only thing that I have...left..." He said softly as he lowered his hand and felt the tears forming in his eyes. He blinked them away.

Emily patted his shoulder, then did the unexpected. She wrapped her arms around the toymaker and gave him a hug. Mr. Fredbear stiffened in surprise and stared down at Emily. Emily's face was out of his perspective. All he could see was the top of her head. Mr. Fredbear felt his face beginning to get warm.

Gradually, his stiff shoulders relaxed and the warmth began to subside. Tears brimmed his eyes as he slowly wrapped his arms around Emily's small frame and hugged her back.

"Hello," said Balloon Boy formally. Emily and Mr. Fredbear turned to the round metal boy. He had been so quiet for so long, they had forgotten that he was there.

Emily tilted her head a bit at Balloon Boy before moving away from Mr. Fredbear and walking over to the round boy. Balloon Boy went silent when she came up to him. She looked down where he stood. She crouched down near his feet. Mr. Fredbear walked up to her and tried seeing what she was looking at. "What did you find?" he asked.

Emily pointed to something that was somewhat hidden under Balloon Boy's feet.

"I'm not sure...but I think they ," she said. It was a tattered yellow scraps of cloth, a couple of screws and a small broken device. Mr. Fredbear felt the blood drain from his face when he saw the sight of the items near Balloon Boy. He pulled out the small container holding the screws in his pocket and took them out.

The screws matched up to the ones at Balloon Boy's feet. Then, Mr. Fredbear reached down and picked up the broken item from the ground. He turned it over in his hands. The metal band that was once coiled up was now out and made a big circle. The other parts were cracked. Broken and useless, but still recognizable, even now.

It was a Spring-lock.

Mr. Fredbear felt sick to his stomach and started to feel like he was going to pass out.

 _It couldn't be..._

Emily placed her hands on Mr. Fredbear's shoulders again when he started to sway a little. "Mr. Fredbear. Are you ok? I think you need to sit down," she said as she started to pull him to a seat. Mr. Fredbear fell into his seat. Emily stared down at the object in his hands. She gently touched the uncurled metal band.

"What's this?" she asked.

Mr. Fredbear snapped out of his state of shock and pulled it away from her. "N-nothing...it's nothing," he quickly said as he placed it into his back pocket. Emily stared at Mr. Fredbear for a long moment before answering. "Look, I know you still don't trust me, but I am trying to help you. I am not going to turn you in to the police. I have my own case I am trying to solve, and you just so happen to be connected to it. I want to change everything back to normal as much as you do."

Mr. Fredbear slowly turned his head to Emily. Emily held her hand out to him and smiled a small smile. "So, what do you say? partners?" she asked him in a gentle voice. Mr. Fredbear was silent for a long while. He turned away for a moment before fishing into his back pocket and pulling out the broken device.

"...This is a Spring-lock...an invention of my own design...but this is an old design...a long time ago..." he admitted to Emily. Emily blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear took a long deep breath before exhaling.

"When I first started building my creations, my first biggest project was this one yellow rabbit creature. Regular screws couldn't handle keeping his parts together, so I invented Spring-locks, which are a lot stronger than screws, but act like bear traps if they ever come in contact with any type of liquid; and I have the scars to prove that," he added the last part in a mutter. "My creation was destroyed in a fire...along with my other little projects I did...after that I moved on and made newer versions of the Spring-lock...but now I find this here and...I have a horrible feeling that my creation survived the fire..." he said gravely.

"That could possibly explain what people have been seeing at night all this time. This...Spring-trap!" Emily replied. Mr. Fredbear winced at the idea of the nickname Emily just gave his first big creation. It made him a little uneasy.

"I guess it could be true...but...that would mean I am responsible for all the missing children and the deaths..." he said as his shoulders sagged even more in guilt. The toymaker dropped the broken Spring-lock and pressed his hands to his face. "I started this...it's all my fault," Mr. Fredbear said in a muffled voice.

Emily didn't touch his shoulders this time. Instead, she sat down next to him. "It's not your fault," she told him. Mr. Fredbear kept his face hidden like a child would when they were upset. Emily continued. "We will figure out a way to clear your name. We can fix this. Together."

Mr. Fredbear gradually removed his hands from his face and glanced back up at Emily. Emily smiled a confident smile down at him and held her hand out to him. She reminded him so much of her...

Mr. Fredbear's eyes fell away from Emily before nodding his head. "Allright," he said in a soft voice. He lifted his gloved hand to hers and clasped it. When he removed it, Emily held the Spring-lock. Emily stared down at it in surprise. Mr. Fredbear stood up.

"Run some tests on it...find some fingerprints...anything...take anything that could help in moving along in this case," he said to her. Emily clasped the Spring-lock in her gloved hand and smiled to him. "Thank you Mr. Fredbear-" she started.

"Freddy...call me Freddy," he said. Emily nodded. "Allright, Freddy," she said. Mr. Fredbear nodded his head back, then smiled a small smile to her. His smile quickly faded when he remembered the journal and pulled it out for her. Emily shook her head and gently pushed the journal back to him.

"You can hold on to the journal. I didn't see anything that could help us, but if you want, you can take a look and see if you can find any clues in it...besides, I already have a lot on my plate in having to run all these tests on these items," she told him as she lifted the broken Spring-lock and pointed to the scraps of yellow cloth and the screws.

Mr. Fredbear nodded his head.

Emily nodded back before yawning. "I should head off. I have a busy day tomorrow-er-today," she said and laughed softly. Mr. Fredbear chuckled softly before yawning as well. He didn't realize how late it was. Mr. Fredbear helped her collect the evidence into a little bag. After that, Mr. Fredbear escorted Emily to the door.

Emily said goodbye to Mr. Fredbear as she walked out and began to walk down the dark, cobblestone streets till she was out of sight. Mr. Fredbear locked his shop back up. When he was done locking all the locks, he yawned and sat back down at his work station. He was about to start working on reading the journal, but sleep took over his worn out body. Mr. Fredbear fell fast asleep before he could flip to the first page of the journal.

The wooden clocks chimed all at once when the new hour arrived.

6:00am...

...

 _May 5, 1863_

 _It was almost six am. I was still awake. The sun was almost up. I could hear the morning birds chirping in the pine trees. I was trudging through the forest, looking for my creation. Through the night I looked; lit lantern in my hand. The night was bitter cold. I had been up since midnight._

 _My fingers and lips had turned a pale blue and I couldn't feel my toes. The deer I usually see at night pranced away when they heard the crunching of my heavy worn leather boots. I saw that one of the little ones had grown up since I last saw it. It had lost the dappled spots on its back and was now a strong, proud doe._

 _A couple snowflakes landed on my nose as I trudged on in the dark forest that continued to stretch on past the fields of my home. It was both eerie and peaceful at the same time. The moon was low in the sky, full and round, giving the the forest a silvery outline_. _A group of moth colored rabbits scurried through the berry bushes and the sleeping wildflowers; their morning colored petals all closed._

 _I heard a loud crash. My heart quickened its pace as I moved through the forest, praying what I heard was my creation._

 _As I ran, I instantly remembered the book Frankenstein. His hideous creation had escaped as well as mine. I felt as though I had become Victor. How ironic it was. I almost felt that the book was my whole life story, all within its pages. I forget how it ended. All I remembered was how Victor regretted even creating the creature, and the creature learning the world all on its own. I feared the worst for my creature. I feared that it would learn the same thing that the creature learned. How it wasn't a human, and would be rejected from the world. It would learn hate instead of love. Death would be on its mind instead of Life. It would choose to kill me..._

 _When I got to a clearing, there was nothing. Only silence. The moon illuminated the whole meadow. There was no trace of my creation._

 _After a couple hours, the sun began to come up and stretch its rays over the meadow and the forest. The emerald green grass and leaves glistened from the morning dew as I walked back to my house from the long, fruitless search. My shoulders sagged and I held my head low._

 _Camille was the first to see me and came running up to me. She asked if I had found the creation. I shook my head and buried my face in my hands in shame. I was a failure. How could I have been so irresponsible? My own creation, out there in the world with little to no knowledge. No helping hand. People would only see it as a monster. A creature that would be seen more as a threat._

 _Camille hugged me tightly and told me everything would be alright. When I looked up at her, she held a confident smile on her face. She was confident that we would find my creation. Our creation that we helped bring to life._

 _May 24, 1863_

 _There is a lot that has happened in the past couple of weeks..._

 _I guess I should start in the beginning when the horrific tragedy happened..._

 _It was late evening. I remember because the moon was a thin silver crescent in the sky; giving off little to no light to the fields and the forest. The sun was giving off its last rays, while the sky painted a beautiful sunset filled with light purples, rich oranges and yellows._

 _I came running into the house at light speed. Camille was in trouble. She had gone into the barn without my permission; saying she thought she had seen something go into my barn; and now she was hurt badly. Part of the barn's rotten beams had fallen and was crushing her leg. I quickly came to her aid, but I was unable to remove the beam. I told her to wait and ran as fast as I could to find someone to help._

 _Once I got to the house, I stopped dead in my tracks when I found my father already in the house, waiting for me; my mother and Amy stood behind him in the living room, their eyes filled with tears. I felt the blood drain completely from my face as I discovered my father_ _gripping Thomas' arm. My father glared at me through cold dark eyes, filled with rage._

 _Thomas somehow must have gotten out from the barn and found his way to the house. I felt sick to my stomach and felt the urge to vomit right then and there; but I just stood there, frozen in complete fear before my father._

 _Thomas stared at me through his tinted goggled eyes. Even though the little metal bear didn't have any emotions built in him, he would have been terrified right now. Instead, he just dangled there in the air, staring straight at me with his big goggled eyes. My father didn't want to ask me what Thomas was and what he was doing in the house. He seemed to already have known._

 _He dropped Thomas, causing Thomas to crash to the floor loudly. I cried out and reached for Thomas._ _Before I could get to the little metal bear, my father grabbed my arm firmly and smacked me across the face. My mother screamed and placed her hands over her mouth. Amy screamed my name._

 _I collapsed to the ground and held my stinging face in my right hand. I heard my father's heavy footsteps come up from behind me, causing me to flinch. He told my whimpering mother to shut her mouth before grabbing me by the back of my collar and forcing me back up to my feet._

 _I tried defending myself by punching back, but my old man was too strong and nearly broke my fingers in the process. I screamed and cried out in agony from the pain as I crumpled to the floor once again. My mother tried intervening and making my father stop, but my father just pushed her away like a pesky little moth before grabbing me by the front of my white shirt once again._

 _I closed my eyes tightly and braced myself just as my father pulled his fist back for a heavy punch. Just then, a faint scream pierced the atmosphere causing my father to stop. I opened my eyes just as another scream came again._

 _Camille. She was in trouble. My father turned to me with his wild wide eyes. Silently, he roughly pulled me to my feet and pulled me by the front of my buttoned up shirt and suspenders and trudged out the front door of the house to the old barn. My mother and Amy followed right behind us out of the house to the barn. My parents and sister stopped as they stared in horror at the tragic sight before them. My eyes widened as much as they could from the growing pain and swelling that was starting on my face._

 _The old barn was up in flames. The fire blazed as bright and hot as the late August sun. From it, my sister's screams could be heard. My mother screamed and placed her hands over her gaping mouth. My father gripped the front of my shirt tighter as he pulled me towards the flaming old barn._

 _Once we got close to it, he loosened his grip while he tried figuring out a way to get inside. He found the barn door and kicked it in. The barn door gave away and fell, causing a bunch of embers to fly up like fireflies and disappear into the late night air. My father released me from his grip._

 _With painful effort, I got to my feet and looked through the wide opening of the barn. There, I spotted my sister past the work table and the animatronics, which had melted and turned black from the yellow tongues of the flames. She screamed in pain and fear. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she reached out towards me and my father._

 _There, inside, I saw my creation, looming over my little sister. Camille was screaming. My creature just stood there, staring straight at me. His glowing eyes burned brighter than the fire itself. His mouth was pulled up in that creepy grin, like the Cheshire cat's in Alice in Wonderland. Beams and splintered wood rained down like sharp daggers from inside the collapsing barn, but it didn't seem to bother my creation._

 _Over and over, my sister screamed 'daddy' as she reached out towards us from under the yellow rabbit._

 _My father was taken aback by the sudden appearance of my creation, but didn't let it take a hold of his fear. He yelled at me to help. He ran into the barn. I tried to move, but I couldn't seem to move. I just stood there..._

 _I just stood there..._

 _It happened all so fast..._

 _My father came before my creation and Camille..._

 _One moment my sister was on the ground under the broken beams. The next moment, my creation was holding her in its arms. My sister cried and screamed, struggling in its grasp. My father tried to pull my sister from the creature, but the robot was too strong. It shoved him away. My father crashed against a beam. The beam buckled and broke from his contact and came crashing down._

 _In the last couple of seconds, I watched my creation as it opened the small iron door on the front of its stomach, and stuffed my sister into it. My sister's screams were instantly cut off as she went limp. I screamed in horror and started to take a couple steps forward towards them._

 _The embers leaped at me as if in defense and burned my skin. I screamed and backed away._

 _The barn's skeletal structure burned to black and began to splinter and crumble. Its withered, weak black bones snapped and broke. Collapsing into a pile of debris and ashes. The fire had grown weak and had divided into small flames amongst the remains of the barn._

 _Frantically, I ran over the bits of splintered wood and charred remains of what was left of my work. I ignored the pains from my face, and my arms and legs as I searched for my creation and my sister. Melted metal burned my fingertips when I came in contact with it._

 _I searched till I couldn't take the pain of my burning flesh._

 _My creation and my sister's body were nowhere to be found..._

 _The only body I had found was my fathers. His lifeless corpse buried with everything I had kept from him. All the secrets I had kept hidden for so many years._

 _Amongst the remains, I had found Freddy, the small little wound up metal bear. I gingerly picked it up and held it in my arms. He was all black from the fire and his inner workings were singed and melted a little._

 _When I came down from the pile of what was left of the old barn, I found my other sister, Amy, and my mother crying and staring at me in horror. I could see in their eyes that they were afraid of me. I had created something horrible, and it costed my sister and my father's lives. I was the monster._

 _I felt something brush up against my leg. It was Thomas. He had followed me from the house. I remembered him staring up at me. I felt tears coming down my eyes as I held Freddy in my arms and stared down at Thomas. Then, without thinking or saying anything to the rest of my remaining family..._

 _I ran._

 _Thomas followed right behind me. He was not built to run, so I picked him up and kept running; towards the night forest. I ran. I ran away from it all. The guilt. My family. Everything. The screams of my sister echoed in my head._

 _I ran till I became out of breath. I sat on a log, deep in the forest. Once I placed Thomas and Freddy down, I began to weep. I wept for my youngest sister. I grieved for what felt like an eternity. It was my fault that she, as well as my father, were dead..._


	12. Chapter 12: The Creation of Mech Life

**Mechanical**

...

Chapter 12: The Creation of Mechanical Life

...

* * *

...

Three loud knocks on the door woke Mr. Fredbear with a start. Mr. Fredbear lifted his head up and opened his eyes. His glasses were crooked on his face and there was a small puddle of drool on the table. Papers fluttered like moths to the floor.

Mr. Fredbear at first thought he just imagined the knocks in his dream, but soon enough, heard the three knocks again, as loud and clear as he had heard them the first time. Mr. Fredbear got up from the wooden stool he had been sitting at, and cracked his back. He winced and moaned softly from the pains he was getting from sleeping in such an awkward position.

Thomas came limping in with a cup filled with coffee. Mr. Fredbear thanked Thomas with a tired groan and drank the coffee. When he was done, he set the empty mug down. At the corner of his eye, he noticed the journal still laying open on the counter where he left it. He hesitated before finally deciding to pick it up and look at the first page. On the front it said The Creation of Mechanical Life in strange loopy cursive writing.

Mr. Fredbear stared at the strange handwriting, tryng to remember where he saw the unusual but familiar handwriting. He decided not to think of it at the moment before closing the book and at first thinking of placing into his pocket, then changing his mind. The three knocks came again. Mr. Fredbear spotted Thomas at the last minute and opened the front compartment of Thomas' metal stomach and placed the book into it. He quickly closed it back up before straightening up and slowly making his way to the door. He swayed a little and gently knocked against edges of tables and some of his creations. Balloon Boy didn't say anything to him when he passed by.

Mr. Fredbear opened the door, and found the two inspectors he encountered before. Inspector Brown the tall one in and Inspector Jackson the short one. The expressions on their faces didn't look like they were there to sit and talk about the weather while drinking tea. They looked very serious.

Mr. Fredbear felt his heart suddenly hurt at the sight of them. He gulped and took a couple breaths before responding in a slow, calm voice. Good morning gentlemen...it is still morning right? I have been asleep for a while..." he said as he just realized how high the sun was in the sky.

The investigators exchanged glances before turning back to Mr. Fredbear. "Mr. Fredbear. We have been researching about you and your business...and we discovered that you do not exist in any of our records," Inspector Brown said. "We didn't find any names that matched yours," added Inspector Jackson. Mr. Fredbear felt a sudden sick feeling in his stomach. "I...well...of c-course not...I changed my name a while back," he said. Inspector Jackson pulled out a file. "About that...there are no records of any names being changed to Fredbear...you seem to not exist at all, Mr. Fredbear. No birth certificates, no family relatives, no criminal records...nothing," he said.

Mr. Fredbear shifted nervously in the doorway. "...I...well, I didn't exactly change it legally, but that's just what I go as these days..." he said. The investigators still weren't impressed. Mr. Fredbear knew that they were trying to get any sort of background information about him, but of course it was difficult since Mr. Fredbear has covered his tracks ever since he got into the toy making business. His horrible past wouldn't have worked well if everyone knew...

"May we please see your creations? The ones in the back?" Inspector Brown asked, snapping Mr. Fredbear from his thoughts. Mr. Fredbear closed his mouth. Sweat started appearing on his brow as he tried keeping himself from panicking. His creations were still gone. They were nowhere. If he told them that they were gone and out in the town somewhere, they would arrest him for sure and keep him in a jail cell until they decide to kill him for all the things he and his creations didn't do. He didn't create child killers. He wasn't a child murderer. He was just a simple toy maker! Why didn't anyone believe him?! _Where was Emily when you needed her?_

"...No...you can't..." Mr. Fredbear finally said. The inspectors gave him a look. "And why is that?" they asked in unison. Mr. Fredbear drummed his fingers nervously on the countertop. "I...am having them... cleaned up. The smells... and the toxic fumes are... not good to breathe in," he lied.

The inspectors didn't seem to believe him. Inspector Brown took one step forward, standing closer to the portly toymaker. "Stand aside, Mr. Fredbear, or whoever you are," he said sternly. Mr. Fredbear knitted his bushy dark brown eyebrows together and held his ground. "I will not," he said firmly, tightening his hands into fists.

The tall and short inspector narrowed their eyes at the stubborn toymaker. "Move aside Mr. Fredbear," Inspector Brown said again. With that, he roughly grabbed Mr. Fredbear's shoulder, Mr. Fredbear grabbed the inspector's outstretched arm and shoved him away. The tall Inspector stumbled backwards, knocking into Inspector Jackson.

The tall inspector growled as he moved away from his partner and rolled up his sleeves, glaring right at Mr. Fredbear. Roughly, he grabbed both of Mr. Fredbear's arms. The two fought for a while till Inspector Brown got the upper hand and shoved Mr. Fredbear through the doorway and back into the store. Mr. Fredbear slammed into the countertop and fell to the ground. Dazed, he placed his hand on his forehead, trying to stop the ringing in his head. His head screamed in pain as he slipped in and out of consciousness. His back ached and his insides felt rattled.

The two inspectors calmly walked past him and into his shop towards the back.

"You... can't just... come into my shop... uninvited!" Mr. Fredbear snapped as he grabbed the back of Inspector Brown's trenchcaot. Inspector Brown whipped around and smacked the toymaker in the face, causing Mr. Fredbear to fall back; his goggles flying off of his face. Inspector Jackson heard the sound and stopped. He hesitated for a moment, then turned back and continued walking.

Mr. Fredbear held his stinging face. He removed his hand and saw blood on his fingertips. Shocked, he turned back to Inspector Brown. The inspector pulled out a handkerchief and calmly wiped the blood off of his hands before carelessly tossing the handkerchief to the toymaker's feet.

"We have every right to, Mr. Fredbear...Don't get in our way," he said. With that, he followed his partner the rest of the way into the shop. Mr. Fredbear stayed put, shaken, and tried collecting himself.

When the inspectors got to the end of the shop, they noticed that all four of the toymaker's biggest creations were missing. Inspector Jackson took out a notepad and pencil and began writing. After a long half hour of silence, the inspectors came back to Mr. Fredbear. Mr. Fredbear sat in one of the chairs, rubbing the side of his head, trying to stay awake and not become unconscious. It was hard since his mind continued to go blank and dive into darkness, before coming back once again.

"We are going to have to take you in," inspector Brown said.

Mr. Fredbear glared at the two Inspectors. "Under what charges? I didn't do anything wrong!" he snapped angrily. Inspector Jackson pulled out his notepad. "For owning toys that murder children, for not properly keeping said toys contained, for lying about having said toys contained/in possession, for not having proper paperwork on said toys, and for selling smaller versions of said toys that are under suspicion that will murder more children."

Mr. Fredbear fumed. "None of my toys are murderers! Someone is framing me for all of this! Why don't you idiots listen to me!" he shouted, getting up from his chair, then immediately going back down after feeling dizzy. Inspector Jackson wrote something else down.

"And for calling the inspectors idiots," he added. Mr. Fredbear bared his teeth. "You can't do this to me! I have worked very hard on the life I have started for myself! Please listen to me!" He shouted more and more. His head felt lightheaded and fuzzy. When he yelled, he sounded so muffled and far away.

Inspector Jackson and Brown helped Mr. Fredbear roughly to his feet. Mr. Fredbear struggled against them. "Let go of me! I am not going with you!" he shouted and thrashed. He got nauseous and dizzy, but tried ignoring it. He knocked over a couple of his buckets of nails and buttons, causing them to scatter across the already messy floor.

"Thomas! Help me!" cried Mr. Fredbear. Thomas limped as fast as he could after Mr. Fredbear. His red eyes lit up big and wide in the goggles. Inspector Brown sneered as he kicked Thomas back when he got within reach.

"No!" cried Mr. Fredbear as he watched his little creation smacked against one of the legs of the chairs, causing it to topple over. "Let go of me!" Mr. Fredbear cried angrily at the two inspectors, but his resist only made them hold him tighter.

"I'm innocent! I didn't do anything wrong! It's not my fault!" He shouted angrily through the shop till they reached the entrance. Mr. Brown hit Mr. Frdbear once more, causing Mr. Fredbear to stop in midsentence and black out. The two inspectors carried the unconscious and heavy toymaker into the carriage that waited for them and rode away.

...

Back inside the shop, Thomas laid on the cold ground sunny side down, surrounded by scattered buttons, colored ribbons, nails and assorted toy eyes. The wooden chair he crashed into laid on top of him. His grey eyes stared straight ahead at nothing.

In a blink of an eye, the strange lanky puppet appeared. It silently hovered before the small metal bear. The pale faced puppet tilted its head slightly at Thomas. Thomas remained motionless. The puppet tilted its head back upright before slowly lifting its stiped arm out towards the metal bear.

Suddenly, Thomas' body began to lift up into the air by itself. Thomas' lifeless body faced the puppet, his head tilted to the side and his arms down to his sides. The puppet's almond shaped black eyes began to produce pins of light from within. The twin pins of white light began to grow brighter and brighter.

A strange thread of glowing light began to fill the room around the puppet and the metal bear. Balloon boy and all of Mr. Fredbear's toys were all bathed in the glowing ghost light. Thomas' eyes began to flicker red. His head began to twitch and move, till it held it up on its own. His arms and legs twitched and moved. Finally, his eyes stopped flickering and remained glowing a bright red.

Thomas blinked and stared at himself for a moment, realizing that he was floating. Then, he noticed the puppet. He stared at the puppet before him. The puppet silently stared at him and pointed at the metal bears stomach. Instantly the hatch on Thomas' stomach opened and the small leather journal floated out.

Thomas saw it and reached out for it. The puppet watched as Thomas finally grabbed it and stared down at it. The pages flipped till they stopped at a page with sketchy images of a certain yellow metal rabbit and a sketch of a human next to it. Thomas unfortunately wasn't made to be able to read the strange spidery text around the images, but knew that his master could and that he needed his help.

With that, Thomas closed the book and placed the book back into the front compartment of his stomach, just as the light around him began to fade. The puppet lowered its head, fading away along with the glowing light. Thomas' feet touched the ground once again. The puppets glowing eyes were the last to disappear into the darkness.

Thomas limped and staggered his way after his master across the cobble-stoned streets, around mechanical horse or regular horse drawn carriages, passerbys and the occasional child. One child chased after him and tried picking him up, but Thomas wouldn't allow him to so he activated his heat mode and began to grow very warm to the touch.

The child finally let go after the bear got too hot to handle, enough to only burn the surface of the skin, and not to leave any burn marks or second or third degree burns. Once Thomas was back on his feet, he continued on down the streets, after his master.

...


	13. Chapter 13: William Violet

**Mechanical**

...

Chapter 13: William Violet

...

* * *

...

 _July 16, 1863_

 _..._

 _It's been a while since I wrote in this journal...ever since...my mistake. Ever since that day I...I have been having nightmares. So many nightmares of my family...I miss them...All of them...so much..._

 _Thomas and I headed through the forest for a while, not knowing where we were heading. I cried most nights. Thomas kept me company through the rough nights. Thankfully the nights were warm, but during those nights I was eaten alive by mosquitoes and had to be careful of night predators. Most of the time I stayed up, with a self made torch in my hands, and scorched Freddy by my side; looking around in the night, jumping to every sound I heard._

 _My war nightmares mixed with my recent nightmares. Countless numbers of my mechanical creations, going off to the battlefield and murdering the enemy. Even when the war is over, my creations continue to murder innocent men, women and children. No emotion. No regret. Just bloodshed everywhere. It was the most horrific thing to ever witness, even if it was only a nightmare. I feared that it would someday come true..._

 _I began to grow very thin over the past couple of days, and very weak. Too weak to carry the things I took with me. Thomas helped me carry the remains of Freddy the scorched metal bear while I walked behind. My stomach was empty, and felt as though it were eating itself. Sweat flowed down my face in buckets from the heavy humidity. Occasionally I had to stop to empty the sweat that had accumulated in my goggles that were still placed on my head._

 _One afternoon on I think it was day three, we stopped near a clear river and found a cluster of berry bushes. I helped myself to the bushes and ate as many as I could till I was sick of them. Thomas stayed away from the water and sat down in the grass. His joints were beginning to sigh and make faint high screech noises that scared away a couple birds and two deer. I needed to find my way into a town and retrieve some oil for him, but I had no idea where I was. I wasn't sure how far me and Thomas had gone, but I knew we had to have been close to the next town over from mine._

 _I drank in the river, then washed the tear streaks from my face._

 _Me, Thomas and Freddy sat in the cool grass for a while, resting. I found myself nodding off again, only to be welcomed back into the realm of nightmares. I woke with a start and sat bolt upright. Thomas was silently nudging me and was pointing over to the other side of the river. There, was a group of wagons painted in different colors. I stayed completely still as I watched the people jump down from the strange wagons and start filling their canteens with water._

 _I noticed some of them wore strange colorful clothes adorned with feathers, buttons, glitter, sequins and other bright and colorful items. They were striped and polka-dotted, some wore make-up while others wore animal masks. The last one who came out from the wagons was t_ _he leader of the group. I assumed he was since he wore a beautiful coat that was the color of crushed berries and was adorned in gold buttons and stitched gold designs. He wore a fancy black top hat and black pants with gold lines running down the sides._

 _He noticed me from across the river. I watched his eyes trail up and down my worn and unwashed attire. I could tell he was trying to figure out who I was and if I was one who was not insane and had been living in the forest all my life._

 _"Boy! What are you doing out here?" he asked, then he stopped and noticed Thomas. He was quiet for a minute before responding. "Is that your automaton?" he asked me. I turned to Thomas. Thomas turned his head to me and focused his red eyes on mine. I heard the small gears I had placed in side his head work in order to move to his desire. I turned back to the man in the red coat and nodded._

 _"Yes sir, his name is Thomas. I created him," I added. The man's eyes widened in shock. I had to admit, it was nice seeing the surprised expression on his face. In some way, it made me feel good about myself and my talent for creating them. Of course, no parent should ever think or say that they regret having, or in my case, creating their children. I loved my children, and to this day, I do not regret my choice in creating them._

 _The man came across the river to me. Thomas stiffened and I heard a hiss of steam escape from his nose. I placed my hand on Thomas' head and whispered to him to relax. Thomas did. The man looked Thomas over and inspected him closely; gently lifting Thomas' small metal arms and looking under his feet. Every time he did, Thomas' joints would screech and groan._

 _The man stopped and asked if Thomas would like some oil to help his joints. I nodded and thanked the man. The man smiled and told me that he had some mechanical creatures of his own in his group. Of course, he bought them a while ago from someone in secret. He picked up Thomas for me and carried him across the river. I picked up the small scorched Freddy and followed after them to the colorful wagons and strangely dressed people._

 _The man in the red coat introduced himself as Barton, and he was the leader of the traveling band of circus performers. Their whole band was called The Out of the Blue Circus, mostly because of their reputation of coming into towns without no one knowing; just "out of the blue."_

 _Barton led me and Thomas through the cluster of colorful wagons, introducing me to his folks. Everyone was very friendly and said hi to me. Some showed off their talents to me when Barton said their names. Some of them asked me why I was out here in the forest all by myself. I lied and told them that I had lost my way. They offered me a ride to the nearest town. I thanked them and helped Thomas up onto the wagon._

 _After I had oiled up Thomas, the young kids of the circus folks played with the little metal bear in the back of the wagon. Thomas really enjoyed their company and did little tricks that appeased them. Barton chatted with me in the front of the wagon as the group of wagons began to head out of the forest single file and back onto the road._

 _I was with the circus people for a couple of days. I really enjoyed their hospitality and their kindness. Once in a while one of their mechanical animals would break down and I would offer to help repair it. T_ _he animals they had traveling with them were_ _mechanical horses, dogs, and monkeys. One of the dogs was having a hard time moving. I inspected it and in two hours I had it moving and functioning properly again._ _Barton was very pleased with my skills and would always tell me how amazed he was. I couldn't help but to see Barton as a father I never had. A father who actually loved his son. A father who I wished I had growing up..._

 _Once we finally got to the town, I began to feel a small pain in my stomach. I could also see in Thomas' goggle eyes when he waddled away from the circus kids that he didn't want to leave either._

 _Right when we were walking away, Barton stopped me and asked if I wanted to help out in their little traveling group. He said that I could help with the mechanical animals. Thomas' eyes went bright with excitement. I smiled and accepted the offer._

 _Before I knew it, I found myself working with the traveling circus. I was part of the family..._ we _were part of the family._

 _We traveled far out past rolling hills and through thick forests. Occasionally it rained. Thomas and Freddy stayed dry in a basket of blankets while everyone worked to get the wagons moving out of the mud. Some of the mechanical animals had built in awnings for them to keep the rain from rusting their delicate gears and mechanical parts from rusting. I was in charge of them and was told how to handle them._

 _Once the rains had settled we rode on. Barton told me that they had a place where they usually camped. The place was close to another town, a growing town that was turning into a wondrous city. It sparkled like diamonds from the remaining yellow light of the setting sun. I gazed from the wagons at it as we winded our way up a hill, three to five miles from the beautiful industrial city. Barton told me that it was the place where the most mechanical beings were. It was the place where the robot factories were; creating robots and mechanical parts. From where I stood, I saw one of the names of the factories: Milton's Mechanical Factory._

 _The very idea made me think back to when I was in the war. The first time when I witnessed the first mechanical item being used and tested on an actual human being. It felt like a million years ago since I witnessed that moment. The future._

 _Once we got to the top of the huge hill, I found myself in a small camp of more performers in wagons and self made huts built out of wood and clothes and branches. Kids in tattered rags with patches of mismatched colors ran around our wagons as we came in. Adults in tattered garments were seen chatting while making food in big buckets or beating worn home stitched blankets with brooms. Most of the adults and some of the kids I noticed had working mechanical arms and legs. Flashes of the war came back into my head and I had to turn away to keep the memories from continuing to pop in my head._

 _The wagons finally stopped and everyone in the small camp came to greet us. Barton hugged a couple of the folks and introduced me to them, after the introductions were over, Barton told me that he wanted me to meet a good friend of his. As we walked, and the crowd of metal ligaments had dispursed, Barton told me about his good friend and how he was an expert in the mechanical stuff as well. I was very eager to meet him and to help out with him._

 _We got to the end of the camp to a small "workshop." Inside I could hear a hammer banging against metal, soon after being followed by the sound of a welding torch._ _Barton introduced me to the man who fixed up the mechanical horses, elephants, monkeys and other automatons._

 _The man was a little older than me. He was tall and skinny and made himself live up to his name in his attire. He wore a long sleeved black buttoned up shirt with pinstriped light purple sleeves under a deep purple vest. His slacks were dark purple, almost black, and he wore black leather shoes. Deep violet tinted goggles were strapped over his eyes as he was seen welding one of the circus' mechanical elephants. The light from the welding torch caused the glass in his round goggles to light up, like white fire in his eyes. He stopped when he noticed us and got up from his stool. He came over to us and grinned, revealing a set of slightly crooked teeth._

 _Barton gestured to the man. "Mr. Fredrick Berenson, I would like you to meet Mr. William Violet, our mechanical expert," I remember him saying. Mr. Violet turned off the torch and took off his goggles. His eyes were black as coals. He smiled to me with a row of crooked teeth._

 _"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fredrick Berenson," he said to me in a British accent as he shook my hand. I winced hearing that name. It was during that time that I knew I had to get rid of my old name. I couldn't stand the thought of being reminded of my past. I have to cover my tracks, forget of the past completely. Change into someone completely new..._

 _"Please. Fredrick Berenson is my father's name...just call me...Mr... Fredbear..." I said slowly. Mr. Fredbear. The name didn't come to me by random. I had thought of the name ever since I was little. It came to me when I thought back to my first year of school when I was a boy. I never knew how to properly spell my last name, and assumed it was spelled the same way as 'bear' since it had the same sound, 'Bere' and 'bear.'_

 _I learned that the hard way when my father found out and hit me, then corrected my stupid mistake. Since then, I had thought of running away from my home and changing my last name to Fredbear. I thought the combination of my name and part of my last name sounded with my first name...Escaping my father and his ways._

 _In some cases I had made my dreams come true...causing it to backfire into a horrific never ending nightmare for myself. No matter how hard I try running away, my problems always seem to follow me._

 _Mr. Violet chuckled, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Of course...and you can call me William," he said in his calm, British voice. I smiled a soft smile. We let go of each other's hand, then Willam began to show me around his little "shop" and showing me all of his blueprints, and mechanical ideas._

 _After that, William and I became the best of friends..._

 _..._

* * *

...

It was night when Mr. Fredbear came to. The moonlight shined through, splicing through the bars and creating a striped pattern across Mr. Fredbear's face. He winced and groaned as he reached up to touch the side of his head where it was beginning to throb in pain.

Mr. Fredbear shifted and stopped immediately when a sudden pain coursed through the right side of his body. He breathed through his teeth and closed his eyes tightly as he waited for the pain to stop. Once it settled he rubbed the side of his head again and breathed cautiously. He blinked a couple times when he thought his vision was messed up.

Soon he began to realize that one of his lenses of his glasses were cracked. He took them off and gently cleaned them with a rag. Carefully, his covered fingers ran across the thin cracks in the glass. Once he was done cleaning them, he placed them back onto his face. He looked around the place. It was late in the night. Mr. Fredbear didn't know how late, but it was very dark where he was.

Mr. Fredbear gently tried getting up to his feet. It took him a while before he was on both feet and he was standing upright. He placed his hand against the wall closest to him when he felt nauseous and felt like throwing up. After the feeling cleared, he got up and looked around through his cracked lenses of his glasses.

The room was dark and the only light came through the windows of the jail. A soft snore came from the desk in the back of the room. An unfamiliar police man in a dark uniform that blended in with the shadows was seen sleeping soundly with his arms crossed and with his feet up on the desk; sitting in a wooden chair. His hat was over his eyes, shadowing his face. From Mr. Fredbear's perspective, he could seethe glint of metal laying on top of the messy desk. The keys to the jail cell.

Mr. Fredbear quietly gripped the icy cold bars of the jail cell in frustration. He felt as though he were being taunted. His freedom, laying there, just out of his reach. Mr. Fredbear sighed and moved away from the bars. This was it. The end. He was going to get sentenced to death for something he didn't do. Maybe it was karma...

Mr. Fredbear felt his throat close up. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried pushing the past away; and ignored the all too familiar pain in his chest. Soon after he desired a drink, to blur and distort his vision. To make him forget. Oh how he wished that he could forget his miserable past. How he wished to trade his soul to never be haunted again. Mr. Fredbear sighed and sat in the cold dark cell, allowing the depression and the darkness to swallow him whole-

Suddenly, at the corner of his eye, he saw something dark move across the window above, close to the ceiling. He turned his head to the small window. A small dark figure appeared. Mr. Fredbear's heart raced a sudden feeling of fear and dread came over him. The dark figure shuffled and fidgeted on the other side of the window. After a while, Mr. Fredbear realized that it was trying to open the small window. It was trying to get in.

Mr. Fredbear stiffened and held completely still. His eyes flickered over to the guard. Maybe he could try warning the guard, but then, if he did, the creature might hear him and come after him first. The dark creature got the window open and began to come through. The figure was small and moved with a limp.

Mr. Fredbear blinked and adjusted his glasses on his face."Thomas?" Mr. Fredbear whispered in surprise. Thomas turned his red eyes to him. Two perfectly glowing red circles stared at Mr. Fredbear in the jail, sending shivers down the toymaker's spine. They eyes reminded him too much of his missing animatronics, who were now acting very strange and gave off a feeling of danger.

Thomas squeezed through the open window of the police station and carefully limped across one of the filing cabinets and gradually made his way down and limped over as fast as he could to Mr. Fredbear's cell.

Mr. Fredbear walked on his knees over to the bars where Thomas was on the other side. Mr. Fredbear sighed silently with relief and smiled a soft smile to his little creation. He was so happy to see him. "Thomas...keys," he said as quiet, and as clear as he could. Thomas cocked his head to the side as he stared at his master through his goggle eyes. The toy-maker tried again. "Keys," he said then pointed.

Thomas looked where his master was pointing. He looked back at his master one last time. Thomas hesitated, almost as if he wanted to say something first to his master, but he couldn't tell him because he had no voice. Thomas finally gave in and did as he was told. He slowly headed over towards the direction of the table. The guard snored softly and kept on sleeping.

It took fifteen minutes for Thomas to figure out how to get back up onto the table. Once he was on top, he limped across it, causing papers to shuffle and shift and gently kicked a coffee mug by accident, causing it to make a clink sound and making a little bit of tepid black coffee spill over the side and stain the papers underneath it. Mr. Fredbear gripped the bars tightly and breathed through his teeth.

The little metal bear stopped as he looked around on the table. His round glowing red eyes turned back to the toymaker in the cell as he pointed to the ring of keys on the table. Mr. Fredbear nodded his head. "Yes, Thomas. Bring them here, please," he whispered and motioned his hand through the bars. Thomas picked up the keys in his hands. The keys made a jingling noise, causing Mr. Fredbear to sweat. The policeman snorted and adjusted himself in his sleep. Mr. Fredbear's body was tense. He turned his focus back on his little creation and motioned his hand again.

Thomas grabbed the keys and made his way across the table and slid down one of the wooden legs. Mr. Fredbear grinned excitedly, but his eyes continued to flicker back over to the police guard. Thomas limped as fast as he could across the floor to his master. Mr. Fredbear placed his hands up through the bars to silently try and tell Thomas to not rush since his little metal feet seemed to clack loudly and echo through the jail.

Suddenly, Thomas tripped over his own feet and dropped the keys, causing them to clatter loudly against the floor. Mr. Fredbear tensed up and held his breath. His heart drummed loudly inside his chest. The blood rushed loudly in his ears like a waterfall. Thomas also held still. His glowing red eyes turned over to look at the guard.

The guard shifted again, he made a couple noises from the disturbance. Thomas immediately began to play a mechanical lullaby that was built in him. The guard heard the music with his eyes still closed, half asleep. Thomas continued to stay still, staring at the police guard. Mr. Fredbear continued to hold his breath, even when he started to feel lightheaded.

The music continued to play gently through the jail. Eventually, the guard fell back asleep. Mr. Fredbear exhaled and immediately kept himself from falling. Thomas stopped the music, picked the keys back up from the cold stone ground, and continued to limp to the cell his master occupied.

Mr. Fredbear went down on his knees to greet his little creation. Once Thomas got within reach, Mr. Fredbear lifted Thomas up and hugged Thomas through the bars. Thomas waited patiently till his master placed him back down on the solid ground before handing him the keys. Mr. Fredbear happily retrieved them from Thomas' metallic paw and got up from his knees and started to reach through the bars to the other side and slide the key into the lock.

Mr. Fredbear heard the soft click and turned the key back. Mr. Fredbear carefully placed the keys into his pants pocket before gently pushing the barred door away from him. The door slowly swung out. Thomas moved out of the way for the door to continue to silently swing outward till it gradually slowed to a stop.

Once it had stopped, the portly toymaker moved his eyes over to the sleeping police man who was supposed to be keeping watch. Thankfully he was still sound asleep. With that, Mr. Fredbear gently picked up Thomas and began to head his way to the door on the other side of the jail.

Once he opened the door, he found himself in a white hallway. Mr. Fredbear placed Thomas down and looked down the hallway. At the end was a door. The exit hopefully. Mr. Fredbear didn't want to hesitate on whether or not it was the exit. It was his best hunch and he only had a little bit of time before the guard woke up and found the cell door wide open.

Mr. Fredbear began to briskly walk towards the hallway, followed by Thomas.

They didn't get far when all the sudden, the hanging lights above them suddenly began to go out one by one till the two where in complete darkness. Mr. Fredbear stopped in his tracks. Thomas stopped as well.

Suddenly, a pair of red eyes appeared on the opposite side of the hallway in front of him. Mr. Fredbear saw them and immediately froze. The toymaker's eyes widened in horror. The hissing of steam was heard, as if the metal creature was sighing, or breathing. Gentle clinks and whirs of the gears inside the creature ticked to the rhythm of Mr. Fredbear's fast heartbeat.

It was Freddy.

Mr. Fredbear knew...and he also knew something was wrong. Withing the clinks and clicks, there were also offset clunking sounds as well. Whispers filled his head. First there was one, then there were more. Sounds of children. Whispering. Mr. Fredbear couldn't make out what they were saying, but it sounded like they were coming from Freddy.

Suddenly, more pairs of glowing red eyes appeared next to Freddy's. Bonnie, Chica and Foxy had come too. In a blink of an eye, and in an impossible feat, they appeared inside the jail; in the darkest part of the room. Their pipes hissed and clanked softly. Steam billowed out and began to run across the ceiling. Their glowing red eyes stayed set on Mr. Fredbear standing on the other side down the hallway.

Mr. Fredbear felt trapped. Lost in the glowing red lights before him. He didn't know what to do. Thomas was silent and stayed still in the darkness with his master. His eyes glowed red back at the eight red lights seven feet up in the pitch black. Mr. Fredbear trembled as he tried making out the whispers from the air. They sounded scared. Sad. Mr. Fredbear didn't move or say anything, too afraid to make a move, or even a sound if his rogue creatures decide to attack. He didn't know what was wrong with them. Their inner workings must have been tampered with...

The glowing red eyes stayed on him.

The whispers got louder as they began to form words Mr. Fredbear could understand. _S...Save...Us...Fred...Freddy..._ Mr. Fredbear felt a chill run up his spine, causing him to flinch. They said his name. The voices...that sounded like...children. "...H-how?" he found himself asking. The voices stopped for a second, then they spoke again. _Run..._

Before Mr. Fredbear could ask, he heard a curse and the sound of footsteps.

Inspector Brown came down the hallway with his lit lantern, blinding Mr. Fredbear and Thomas once they turned around to face him. Past the light, the tall Inspector was outraged. Mr. Fredbear felt a sudden panic as he took a couple steps back. "Inspector! Wait! You don't-" he started, trying to warn him of his animatronics just down the hallway from them, but Inspector Brown wouldn't listen.

"I don't have time for your words, Mr. Berenson!" he snarled as he pulled out his gun and aimed it at Mr. Fredbear. "You are coming with me!" he shouted. Before Mr. Fredbear could even react, he heard a loud sound behind him.

Freddy screamed a high, ear shattering scream as he charged towards them, his pipes billowing out a ton of steam and his metal parts screeching and scraping against each other. Inspector Brown, Mr. Fredbear, and Thomas took a couple steps back in alarm. Inspector Brown aimed his gun at Freddy instead and began firing at the massive metal bear. The bright flashes from the gunshots and the sparks erupted off of the metal of the charging metal bear.

Mr. Fredbear screamed and moved backwards from the bear. Right when he began to see his whole life flash before him, the huge metal bear ran right past him. A horrible smell followed the bear. A smell that caused Mr. Fredbear to retch and cause the bile in his throat to rise up. It smelled of death.

The huge metal bear charged straight for Inspector Brown.

Inspector Brown screamed as he felt his whole body be lifted up by the neck. Freddy grabbed the inspector's arm with his free hand and began to pull it out of it's socket. Inspector Brown screamed as he felt his skin beginning to rip and tear from the strength of the metallic bear.

"Freddy! No! Stop!" Mr. Fredbear screamed at the huge mechanical bear, taking a step forward. Freddy immediately stopped and just held Inspector Brown's arm. Inspector Brown kicked and moved his legs rapidly in the air from the light of the tipped over lantern. He screamed and wailed in agony from the immense pain in his arm as it began to bleed.

Freddy stared at the toymaker through his goggle eyes. The steam billowed around the two figures, turning red from Freddy's glowing red eyes. Both Mr. Fredbear and his creation stared. Mr. Fredbear could feel his arms shaking as he stared at his creation. The sound of steam hissing and gunked up gears grinding together were heard. Mr. Fredbear ached to open up his creation and fix him. Save him from the torture he was going through...and the same to the others.

Mr. Fredbear began to slowly reach out his arm towards Freddy. Freddy flinched at Mr. Fredbear's sudden action, but continued to stare at Mr. Fredbear. Mr. Fredbear had the sudden urge to pull his arm back, but he forced himself to ignore it and continued to reach up to Freddy's compartment. He wanted to look inside.

Right when his fingers gently brushed up against the cold metal of the mechanical bear, Mr. Fredbear felt the touch instantly vanish in a blink of an eye. Mr. Fredbear's hand reached out to nothing. Freddy was gone. Inspector Brown fell from when he was being held up by Freddy, then crumpled. Mr. Fredbear turned his head to where Bonnie, Chica and Foxy were. The glowing red eyes were gone too.

Outside, the clock tower struck six am. Six loud, low, hollow chimes.

Once the sixth chime went off and went back to silence, Mr. Fredbear turned back to Inspector Brown. Inspector Brown laid on the ground, moaning in pain and gripping his bleeding arm. Jagged rip marks were seen on his skin where Freddy began to tear the flesh. The Inspector forced his head upwards and looked up at Mr. Fredbear with a look of hatred in his dark eyes. Mr. Fredbear hesitated before Inspector Brown. Before he could let The Inspector say anything to him, he grabbed Thomas and ran down the hallway towards the exit, and out the door.

Inspector Brown groaned and staggered to his feet. He watched as Mr. Fredbear disappeared down the street. He gritted his teeth and sighed in frustration while rubbing his arm. "Father isn't going to like this..." he muttered to himself under his breath.

...

* * *

...

When Mr. Fredbear got home, he found Emily there, waiting for him. She looked very concerned. When she turned to the toymaker, she sighed with relief and came rushing up to him. She grasped his hands in hers when she stopped before him. "Where were you? Where did you go?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear could hear the growing fear and concern rising in her voice. Mr. Fredbear told her about his unfortunate encounter with the Inspectors and got arrested. Emily's eyes widened in shock as she placed her hand over her mouth when he told her about Freddy nearly ripping Inspector Brown's arm off.

"That's horrible! Is he...?" her voice faded, too afraid to even finish her sentence. Mr. Fredbear shook his head. "I told Freddy to stop and he did...he and the others disappeared after that..." he explained. Emily sighed and removed her hands from Freddy's hands. "Well. I'm glad to see that you are safe...Do you...do you think Inspector Brown is behind all this?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear nodded his head.

"I'm beginning to think so...I remember him saying my real last name. I don't see how he could have known that. I covered my tracks up really well. I think he's the one who has been murdering the kids and framing it on me," he said. Emily nodded. "I don't want to jump to conclusions just yet, but...I think you might be right...I don't think your workshop is a safe place to meet anymore," she pointed out. Mr. Fredbear sighed and nodded. "I'm afraid you are right...no locks could keep him out," he added as he looked around his ransacked workshop.

Emily pointed down the street and suggested her place. Mr. Fredbear agreed. With that, the three walked down the moonlit cobblestone streets towards Emily's house. Surprisingly it was only a couple streets down from Mr. Fredbear's shop. Emily lived in a small apartment on the second floor. She fished out her keys when they arrived at her door and unlocked it. Inside looked like a newspaper stand had blown up.

Everywhere on the walls had newspaper clippings with articles of 'The Missing Children,' 'Rogue Robots,' and other similar things on the case. Black and white photos of Milton's Mechanical Factory and Blackpool's Robotics were seen. Images of possible "suspects" were taped or tacked up into the walls. Bits of red string connected and stretched across the walls to certain articles, like a huge red spiderweb. A black cat played with a small yarn ball of the red string.

"Spooky!" Emily said smiling as she waved her hand. The young black cat, named Spooky, quickly got up and scampered over to the open window on the other side of the room, just over the bed, and disappeared through it, back outside. Mr. Fredbear blinked in surprise.

"Uh...aren't you afraid of keeping your window open like that?" he asked. Emily closed the door behind them and turned back around to face the toy maker and his little creation. "Why? I don't have any children for the murderers to take. Also I need the window open so I can feed Spooky. She's not my cat, she's a stray that comes by once in a while and I feed her milk. She's good company," she said as she picked up a couple articles that were on the ground and tossed them onto the bed.

Mr. Fredbear winced at her words, but decided not to continue the conversation. Instead, he picked up Thomas and set him down onto the bed. Thomas sat on the bed and looked up at Mr. Fredbear.

Emily adjusted her worn leather satchel around her shoulder and pulled out a couple papers. "I found some more information about your case, and other things too," she said. She handed the papers to Mr. Fredbear and began to tell him what she had found.

"I remember you telling me about what you discovered in the basement of that one abandoned building, and began to dig deeper. Apparently the building was once an orphanage a long time ago. The building closed down back in 1875 when they found that the orphans began to go missing one by one. The only name of one of the orphans I was able to find in the records was Peter," she said.

Mr. Fredbear slowly nodded his head as he stared down at the floor, thinking. "...When did the accidents begin to happen with the factories?" he asked. Emily held up two fingers. "Two years after the missing orphans," she said. "1877," Mr. Fredbear muttered. Emily nodded.

"I have been trying to connect those stories together as well. The only thing that connects is the fact that the person who had been murdering children possibly worked in the orphanage for a while, and worked in one of the factories before the accidents happened," she pointed out. Mr. Fredbear sat down next to Thomas as he stared down at the papers Emily handed to him.

After a while, Mr. Fredbear got back up from the bed.

"It still doesn't make any sense..." Mr. Fredbear sighed, lowering the papers. "What kind of monster would do such a horrific thing, and why? What does this all have to do with my robots? All this still hasn't answered anything!" Mr. Fredbear sighed, dropping the papers onto the bed.

Thomas stared up at his master. He silently jumped down from the bed and limped over to Mr. Fredbear. The small metal bear tugged on Mr. Fredbear's pantleg. Mr. Fredbear looked down and noticed Thomas looking back up at him. "What's wrong, Thomas?" he asked. Once Thomas saw that his master was looking at him, Thomas opened the small compartment on his stomach and pulled out the book from it. Mr. Fredbear blinked in surprise and took the book from Thomas when he handed it to him.

"Oh, thank you, Thomas," he said, changing his attitude as he stared down at the journal. "...I almost forgot I gave this to you to hold onto...maybe this journal can help us connect the dots," he said to Emily.

Mr. Fredbear flipped to the first page and began to read. There, in the familiar writing, was a long paragraph and a quote from a philosopher about the idea of life, death and the joy of creation. On the bottom of the page had a name and a date written in fancy script. The date was 1885 and the name read, William Violet.

 _1885, that was two years ago..._

Mr. Fredbear flipped a couple more pages through till he got to the end and looked at the recent date at the top. _1887_

Mr. Fredbear gasped and nearly dropped the journal. Emily looked down at the journal before looking back up at Mr. Fredbear. "Freddy? Is something wrong?" she asked him with concern in her voice. Mr. Fredbear was silent for a long time as he continued to stare down at the name.

" William Violet...I thought..." Mr. Fredbear's voice faded as he stared at the name on the first page.

"...I thought he was dead..."

...


	14. Chapter 14: Dark Pasts

**Mechanical**

...

Chapter 14: Dark Pasts

...

* * *

...

 _Flashback. October 30, 1863_

 _..._

 _"William, could you bring over the oil can?" Mr. Fredbear called out. His partner, Mr. Violet, came weaving through the messy workshop, with the oil can in his hand. "Here you go...is Foxy's lower jaw stuck again?" he asked as he came over and tilted his head up to look at the mechanical fox as it towered over both men. Morning sunlight filtered through the heavy white material of their workshop, causing the lighting to glow a yellow color. The fox's eyes flickered on and off as it tried moving and talking, but every time it did, the joints would make a painful screeching sound._

 _Foxy the Pirate Fox was one of the newest and biggest creations Mr. Fredbear had been working on for a while; as well as jumping over to work on Freddy the Bear. The two mechanical creatures were enormous. One of the biggest creations Mr. Fredbear had ever created, and with the help of Mr. Violet, the time spent on them was cut in half. The mechanical animals loomed over the two men as they worked._

 _"Unfortunately yes," Mr. Fredbear replied. He thanked his partner before going up the three wooden steps of the step stool and oiling the metal gears and workings inside the fox's mouth. "Hopefully that will keep it from screeching again," he said as he came down from the small step stool and stared up at the enormous creature. Mr. Violet smirked as he turned his head upwards towards the metal robotic fox._

 _"Foxy has always been my favorite out of your works," Mr. Violet said, placing his gloved hands behind his back. Mr. Fredbear smirked. "I'm glad you say so," he said, turning around and placing the oil can onto one of the messy work benches, causing some papers to flutter and a spool of red thread to topple over and roll underneath the wooden table, leaving a trail of red thread behind it._

 _Through the past couple of months, Mr. Fredbear and William Violet worked on repairing all the mechanical animals for Barton's circus. They both learned a thing or two from one another about certain parts and tools. Mr. Fredbear told William that he was self taught about mechanics and engineering, whereas for William, he had gone to school and took many classes in the mechanics of mechanical creatures and the inner workings; when Mr. Violet found out about Barton's circus, he dropped out and joined Barton and his circus and became their mechanical animal caretaker._

 _It surprised William very much so how Mr. Fredbear was able to create mechanical creatures with the knowledge of being self taught, and being able to improvise with what he had. William Violet was very intrigued by Thomas and how he worked the first day they met. "He's still a prototype," Mr. Fredbear had told him that one day, but William didn't seem to hear him as he continued to examine Thomas. Mr. Fredbear could practically see all the equations and math problems and gears floating around Mr. Violet's head._

 _Their work space had grown in the small span of time. The two creators requested a lot of items for their projects, and Barton tried his best rounding up a group of people to add the certain items to their lists when they went off to trade for them in the small markets or the destroyed factories remains in parts of the countryside. Their rectangular tent was renovated several times when the place got too crowded, and contained the following:_

 _Buckets of spare parts of robot arms, heads and legs in all shapes and sizes, different metals in scraps or coils, buttons, needles, hammers, spools of different threads, different types of wood, wood tools, and above them, half finished projects of metal horses, monkeys, elephants and winged birds, all suspended over them, secured and fastened by wires like puppets tied to their strings._ _A couple science fiction novels were seen in stacks or scattered in piles on the edges of the work tales or seen balancing out a work table that lost a piece of its leg. Most of them are the works of Jules Verne, and one copy of Frankenstein._

 _To most of the people in the traveling circus, they thought that the two men were crazy; seeing their messy place and crazy drawings of the mechanical creatures. To William and Freddy, it was their heaven._

 _"Daddy? are you in here?" asked a small female voice with a British accent, causing the two men to stop working. Mr. Violet turned his attention to the flap opening of the self made workshop. A little girl in a small white dress decorated in lace and a couple patchworks stood just outside. She looked to be ten years old with long dark brown hair. Her eyes were a piercing emerald green. She walked in. Her knee high laced up leather boots crushed against the dead grass and dirt of the floor of the two men's messy workshop._

 _She stopped when Thomas came up to her. Thomas gave her a little wave. The little girl smiled shyly and gave the metal bear a wave back. If Thomas could smile, he would have. He liked making friends. He silently opened his arms out for a hug. The girl giggled and gave him a hug._

 _Mr. Fredbear turned his head and looked at the girl. He had never known Mr. Violet had a daughter; during the time he and Mr. Violet were in the workshop, she never came to visit. Mr. Violet never mentioned anything about his personal life to Mr. Fredbear anytime they were together in their work space. It somewhat answered a couple questions about Mr. Violet's life outside his work, but at the same time opened up more questions._

 _The little girl stopped hugging Thomas and smiled when she saw Mr. Violet. She ran over to him. Mr. Violet crouched down and opened his arms out for her. When she ran into his arms, he picked her up from under her arms and lifted her up high in the air, turning into a complete circle. The little girl's head barely touched the metal finger tips and chrome hooves of some of the animatronics._

 _"How is my little girl doing?" William asked her, smiling to her. The girl giggled and hugged her father. Mr. Fredbear watched from where he stood, smiling at the two, but inside, he felt a twinge of pain in his chest. He ignored it and tried to hide the feeling when Mr. Violet turned his attention to him._

 _"This is my daughter, Mary," said Mr. Violet as he held her in his arms. Mr. Fredbear smiled as he took off his goggles and tipped his hat to her. "Hello, Mary. I'm Mr. Fredbear," he said. Mary turned her head up to Mr. Fredbear and smiled a small shy smile. "Hi," she said before turning back to her father and burying her head into his buttoned up purple shirt._

 _Mr. Fredbear chuckled. "A shy one I see," he said. William smiled and placed Mary down onto the workbench. "Yes, just like her mother was," he said, his voice with a hint of sadness. Mary looked at her father for a minute before turning to Mr. Fredbear. "Mommy passed away after I was born," she said._

 _Mr. Fredbear's eyes went wide in shock. "Oh, I...I'm so sorry," he said. William's shoulders went down a little as he kept his eyes on the ground. Then he picked up his daughter and placed her back down onto the ground. "Why don't you go and play with your friends outside," he said. Mary stopped for a moment. "But...Mr. Barton sent me. He says he wants to speak to you about something," she said._

 _William was silent for a moment, then he nodded. "Allright...thank you, Mary,"_

 _Mary stared up at her father for a minute. Mr. Fredbear could see the growing concerning look on her face. Then she adverted her eyes from him and left the workshop._ _William was silent for a long moment. Mr. Fredbear didn't know what to do. When he decided to go back to work and pretend Mary didn't say anything, Mr. Violet spoke up._

 _"...Ever since my wife passed away...I felt as if I had been torn in half..." he said in his soft British voice. "Mary is all that I have left...She is everything to me...I am so thankful to have her as my daughter," he added._

 _Mr. Fredbear nodded and lowered his head as well. "I understand...I lost my sister...and my father...in a fire..." he found himself saying. Mr. Violet turned his head to Mr. Fredbear. Mr. Fredbear kept his head down on the project he was pretending to work on. The two friends were silent for a long time. Not sure what to say to the other._

 _Finally, Mr. Violet sighed, "I better go see what Mr. Barton wants...I wont be long," he said. With that, he walked over to the entrance and exit of the tent and disappeared. Mr. Fredbear stopped working and sighed. He stared down at the almost finished project he was pretending to work on. It was a wooden face of a puppet with rosy red cheeks and a carved smile. Its' painted dark eyes stared back up at him..._

 _..._

* * *

...

 **A/N: Hey guys, sorry about the delay. I've been a bit busy with things, and have been getting a little bit of a writer's block. I hope to get the next chapter up as soon as possible. Thanks everyone for staying with my story, and I hope you stick till the end.**

 **-Bat13SJx**


	15. Chapter 15: Friends and Enemies

Mechanical

Chapter 15: Friends and Enemies

...

* * *

...

Emily offered to let Mr. Fredbear stay the night. She offered her bed while she slept on the couch, but Mr. Fredbear said no and said he would be alright on the couch. Emily took down some blankets from the cabinet and handed them to him. Her footsteps caused the floorboards to creak underneath her. He thanked her and laid down on the bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin. He still wore his day clothes and jacket since he didn't know that he would be spending the night at Emily's house.

It didn't take long for Mr. Fredbear to fall asleep, and it didn't take long for him to wake up.

Mr. Fredbear awoke with a start from a horrible nightmare. He dreamed of witnessing Mr. Violet murdering a child right in front of him. Grinning with an insane twinkle in his eye. It terrified Mr. Fredbear.

The next morning, Emily was up very early, preparing coffee and toast. Mr. Fredbear woke up two hours later and was given a plate of toast and coffee. He slumped down and had his toast with jam. When he was done he pulled out the journal from his coat and began to read it.

Emily was silent for a while as she stared down at her empty coffee cup from across the table, deep in her thoughts. Finally, she looked up at Mr. Fredbear and spoke up. "Did you...did you know Mr. Violet well?" she asked him. Mr. Fredbear was silent for a moment, then he nodded his head, keeping his eyes on the pages in the book.

"Yes...we...we were very good friends..." he said, just as he felt a stab of pain in his heart. The silence filled the room, making Mr. Fredbear very uncomfortable all of the sudden. He looked back up at Emily and saw her staring at him. He could see it in her eyes that she wanted to know more. He sighed and shook his head.

"We worked together, fixing mechanical animals for a circus...That was when I began building the four big mechanical animals: Freddy, Foxy, Bonnie and Chica...Wil-er...Mr. Violet left...later on I found out he joined the war...that was the last I heard of him..." he said. He of course left the big parts out from the story, but he wasn't ready to tell her...

Emily seemed contempt with the answers she got and slowly nodded her head. "I'm sorry," she said. Mr. Fredbear didn't say anything, pulling the silence back into the room.

Just then, Thomas came limping into the room, his joints creaking and sighing. He rubbed the corner of his right eye like a human would. He looked over and stared at Emily and Mr. Fredbear. Emily noticed him and looked over at Mr. Fredbear. "Does he need anything for this morning?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear turned his head to look where Thomas the metal bear stood before turning back. "Oh, yes. I don't suppose you have a can of oil on you?" he asked, half expecting her to say "no."

Emily got up. "I think I have some around here," she answered as she circled around the table and began to head for the cupboards. She opened one and immediately found an oil can and handed it to Mr. Fredbear. Mr. Fredbear accepted it. "Thanks," he said as he began to use it on Thomas.

Thomas moved his arms once the oil was placed over the joints. They didn't make any sound. Once Mr. Fredbear was done, he picked up the small bear and sat him on his lap. Emily sat back down in her chair and took another sip from her coffee. The grandfather clock chimed nine o' clock in the other room. Mr. Fredbear listened to its hollow chimes before they were done. Emily cleared her throat and looked at Mr. Fredbear across the way.

"So...Have you been able to figure anything out from the journal?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear shook his head. "No. Most of it is just jumbled nonsense. Like it's written in some sort of code. The pictures kind of make sense, but I still don't understand anything...but then I haven't really gotten all the way through it," he admitted; not adding the fact that he hadn't had a decent sleep in days and was very exhausted.

Emily nodded. "I'm sure we will be able to figure everything out soon," she said. Mr. Fredbear sighed as his shoulders slumped. "We are running out of time. Pretty soon they will find me again and lock me up," he said. Emily shook her head.

"Don't think that way. I wont let that happen to you," she told him. Mr. Fredbear slowly nodded his head. "Thank you, Emily...I... really appreciate the help," he said. Emily smiled a small smile at him. Mr. Fredbear glanced at her for a moment, before smiling a quick smile back and looking back down at the journal...

...

June 20, 1865

...

"... _You know, if you decided to run away and change your name again...You could rearrange the letters around in your name...and your new name would be Derrick F. Freebard," Mr. Violet said one day as he tightened a nut on one of the animatronics with a wrench. Mr. Fredbear smirked at the very thought as he tied a black bow around Freddy's thick metal neck._

 _"Is this why you haven't been talking to me for the past half hour?" Mr. Fredbear asked. Mr. Violet grinned his usual mischievous grin as he looked over and straightened up._

 _"You know I love doing anagrams," he reminded his friend. Mr. Fredbear chuckled and shook his head. "And I'm guessing you have already figured out your arranged name as well?" he asked him, lowering his arms. William smiled and nodded, placing the tool down._

 _"Of course I did. Unlike you, I have a middle name to work with," he said. Mr. Fredbear raised an eyebrow with a smile playing on his lips. "And what middle name be that, pray tell?"_

 _Mr. Violet continued to smirk at Fredbear. "My middle name is Fathnor. I was told I got the middle name from a very good friend of my father...but the anagram for my full name is Wilheilm Altivor Afton." Mr. Fredbear blinked in surprise at the name, but couldn't help but to chuckle._

 _"If you decided to leave and change your name, would you would be ok being called that?" he laughed. Mr. Violet grinned and shrugged. "It's not a bad name. What's wrong with being addressed as Mr. Afton?" he asked. Mr. Fredbear smiled shook his head._

 _"Not at all. It's a fine name," he said before switching Freddy on, turning the switches and knobs, causing the generators and steam to come to life and fill the whole workshop tent with smoke and noise._

 _Mr. Violet turned around and did the same to Foxy and Chica. Mr. Fredbear did the same to Bonnie and the two watched as the lights of the animatronics flickered and came on. Smoke poured out of the pipes that were connected to the backs of the huge robots. One by one each of the metal animals' eyes came on. Freddy blinked a couple times before tipping his black top hat to his two creators.  
_

 _"H-hello! my n-n-n-name is F-Fred-ddy Fazbe-ear!" He said in his shaken, booming robotic voice. Mr. Fredbear and Mr. Violet turned to each other and grinned excitedly. Their faces and hands blackened with oil, soot, grease, and paint._

 _"The voices could be worked on a bit...but I say we did a pretty good job," said Mr. Violet, smiling. Mr. Fredbear nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure the guests wont mind," he added. Mr. Violet smirked as he watched Foxy lift up his eye-patch and grin happily, revealing his sharp teeth, then began to sing a sea shanty Mr. Violet had recorded an old sailor song._

 _Bonnie shined a purple color from his metallic body as he adjusted his bow tie and picked up a guitar leaning against a rack near him and began to play a song. The guitar was like a child's toy in Bonnie's huge metal hands as he shifted and moved in a choppy rhythm to the beat._

 _Chica smiled and did a curtsy as she waved to her two creators who only came up to her waistline on her yellow dress. She placed her hands together as she began to sing a song that went with Bonnie's song on the guitar. All around them, the hanging light bulbs above flickered on and off. The generator in the back was working full time, keeping both the lights on, and the four animatronics working at the same time._

 _Mr. Fredbear laughed softly and happily as he stared up at the four creatures._

 _"They are amazing," he said in awe. Mr. Fredbear felt like a child again. He felt like he was ten years old again, going to the circus with his family; watching the performers and animals in bright colorful costumes do incredible feats and acts in a dream like world beyond imagination; filled with silver stars and glitter and dust._

 _Just then, the flap to their enormous tent opened up and a man in a uniform came in. Mr. Violet and Mr. Fredbear turned their heads over to the entrance of their workshop. Their animatronics lifted their heads up and looked across the workshop. Bonnie stopped playing. Foxy and Chica stopped singing, and Freddy stopped talking. The whole workshop seemed to suddenly fade and become silent and lifeless as a graveyard as the stranger came in._

 _The man was a general. He wore a general's hat with a familiar symbol on the front, and a couple medals on his left breast. His eyes were tired with bags from little to no sleep. His salt and pepper colored hair was short and combed back nice and neat. His shoes were black as night and were polished to perfection. His hands were rough and had a couple scars visible on his wrinkled leathery hands._

 _He took off his hat as he came into the workshop and slowed his steps as he looked around at the strange mechanical creatures and half finished projects all around him. Once he got to the cluttered, wooden work table and the two men, he placed his hat in his left hand and reached out his right hand for a handshake. "Hello, gentlemen. My name is General Bill H. Carson..."_

 _Mr. Violet's eyes widened in surprise. "General Bill Carson? I...what do we owe the honor of you being here?" he asked as he shook the general's hand. The general lowered his hand after the handshake. "I have come to discuss something very important to you two," Carson admitted. Mr. Violet quickly pulled out a wooden stool for the General to sit on. The General sat down and told them to sit down as well. Mr. Violet and Mr. Fredbear grabbed their own stools and sat down with him._

 _The general stared down at his hat in his hands for a moment. "...You two must know that the war is still going on right?" he asked them. Mr. Violet blinked, and Mr. Fredbear didn't say anything. They truthfully didn't. They actually didn't know there was a war going on. They never bothered looking at the papers or talking to Barton, or any of the other performers of the Out of The Blue Circus. They mostly just stayed isolated and stayed to themselves on their projects._

 _The only time they talked to anyone was when William's daughter came in or when Barton needed certain animatronics fixed or up and running by next week or the night of the performance. It was busy work for just the two of them, which kept them out of the loop of the news._

 _The General cleared his throat. "Well, the war is still going on, and so far everything is going from bad to worse. Our strategies against them are not working. Men are dying. Food is running low, and just recently one of our factories was blown up," he explained. Everyone in the nearest towns are doing everything they can to keep us going and to help us win...but we can't. It's near impossible..." he said sadly as he sighed a low and tired sigh._

 _Mr. Fredbear looked down at the ground, instantly feeling sick. Memories of the war he was in came flooding back to him. It made him feel nauseous and horrible. Depressed. Horrified. He never wanted to go back. Mr. Violet kept quiet as well as he listened intently to the General's words._

 _The General pulled out a kerchief and wiped his sweaty face before continuing. I remember hearing about Mr. Barton's circus coming through one of the towns in the newspaper... We are very close to losing this war...The only sure fire way to win is with...animatronics..." he said, causing Mr. Fredbear to snap his head up._

 _"Animatronics. robots. They are what keep going. They are what are able to withstand the bullets and take down a soldier...You two are the remaining few men who know the mechanics of such creatures and can operate them..." his voice faded when he noticed the four animatronics behind William and Fredrick suddenly move. He stood up from his stool and stared up at them in awe. "My God...they are huge..." he breathed. Mr. Fredbear's eyes widened in shock when the general went around them and approached the enormous steam powered robots._

 _"Incredible..." he said as he reached his hand out to them. Freddy shifted nervously, but then tipped his hat. "Hello, general," he told him. The general pulled his arm back in surprise and jumped. "It can talk!" he said in surprise._

 _"_ He _can talk," Mr. Fredbear explained, narrowing his eyebrows in the process. The general didn't seem to hear him as he continued to stare up at the four. He lifted his hand up again and inspected them. Mr. Fredbear clenched his teeth. Mr. Violet placed a hand on Mr. Fredbear's shoulder. Mr. Fredbear turned his head and found Mr. Violet looking at the general. Mr. Fredbear narrowed his eyes and turned back, relaxing his shoulders._

 _The general asked for the animatronics to talk. Chica spoke up first. "M-my na-ame is Ch-Ch-Chica. Chica the ch-chicken. I bake cup-c-c-c-c-c-cakes and li-like to d-d-d-d-...I like to dance," she curtsied. Bonnie spoke next and strummed a little. "I'm Bonnie the Bunny. I play the guitar and I like to eat carrots," he said smiling. The general smiled back excitedly and instantly looked like he had lost a handful of years from him. Foxy placed his hand on Bonnie's shoulder as Bonnie continued to play on his guitar and flashed his hook._

 _"I be Foxy! Foxy the Pirate fox! I like ta sail the seven seas and sing sea shanties!" He said as he began to sing a song that matched with Bonnie's music. Freddy came up before the general and bowed. "A-a-and last but not least...I'm Freddy Fazbear...but you can call me Freddy," the enormous metal bear said before offering a handshake._

 _The general hesitated before putting his arm out as well. The two shook hands. The general laughed in a mixture of a nervous and excited fashion. After their handshake, General Carson turned to the two creators._

 _"You my good two fellows are complete geniuses! How much are you willing to sell these four amazing an-" he started, but Mr. Fredbear cut into his words like a knife. "They aren't for sale," he interrupted through gritted teeth. The general blinked in surprise from the sudden words by Mr. Fredbear, but quickly collected himself and tried again._

 _"...Now hold on son, maybe you would like to hear how much I would like to offer to you," he started. Before Mr. Fredbear could protest, William placed an arm on his shoulder. "Hold on...let's see what he's offering," he whispered. Mr. Fredbear felt the rising anger in his chest, but found himself unable to open his mouth and argue against his friend. He relaxed his shoulders a little and stared at General Bill Carson._

 _Bill Carson glanced at the two for a second before holding his hands up to the four animatronics. "A thousand dollars..." he offered. The men blinked in astonishment. Then Mr. Carson quickly waved his hands. "No...A thousand dollars...each," he said, pointing to all four of the animatronics. "Also, an extra thousand dollars if you could put in some modifications for them?" he asked. Mr. Fredbear felt the blood drain from his face. He looked over to William, who had a shocked look on his face, but couldn't tell which side he was on._

 _Mr. Fredbear quickly spoke first. "Thank you, Mr. Carson, but we are not int-" "Hold on, what about your friend?" Carson quickly intervened back and gestured to Mr. Violet. Mr. Fredbear kept himself from turning to look at his friend. "I can speak for my partner. We are not interested."_

 _Mr. Carson was shocked. He lowered his arms and frowned a little. Mr. Fredbear noticed as Mr. Carson's eyes flickered over to William, then back to Mr. Fredbear. "Well then, I guess that's it then." With that, he placed his hat on top of his head and shook their hands again. "It was nice meeting you gents. I hope you guys think about my offer," he said._

 _Once the man left, Mr. Fredbear roughly turned away and angrily picked up a wrench, but then quickly slammed it back down in anger. Mr. Violet hesitated before placing his hand on his partner's arm._ _"Fredrick...the man was just offering-" Mr. Violet started, but Mr. Fredbear wouldn't let him finish his sentence. Instead, Mr. Fredbear shrugged off Mr. Violet's hand and turned around sharply to face the man in purple._

 _"The man was suggesting to turn them into weapons!" Mr. Fredbear snapped angrily. Mr. Violet took a step back as Mr. Fredbear kicked the wooden stool nearest to him and watched it skid away before falling to the floor with its thin, stiff legs up in the air like a dead bug._

 _"You don't know what its like being out there! I do! I will not be a part of the wars again! Part of the reason I ran away from my home was to get away from the war! I will not become their slave and allow my creations become a secret weapon! They are to entertain! Not to kill! They are my creations!" he snapped angrily. Mr. Violet shifted and looked very hurt._

 _"...Our creations, Fredrick..." he corrected him. Mr. Fredbear kept his back turned to his friend, his arms on the wooden table. Mr. Fredbear looked through his glasses down at the blueprints and sketch drawings of the four huge animatronics. So many long months of working. So many hours...all for what? To just give it all away to some general who wants to win a war? To kill millions of lives._

 _"You don't sound like you really care about "our" creations," Mr. Fredbear said, causing William to narrow his eyes. "I do care about Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy!" He snapped, causing Mr. Fredbear to look at him straight on. Mr. Violet's face started to grow a little red with rage as he continued._

 _"I care about our creations as much as you do! But we both have to remember, these animatronics have no feelings! They are not alive! I am actually thinking of my daughter! I want to get out of here and give her a better home instead of that ratty old tent! I want what's best or her! And I can't do that if you are being selfish!" he shouted back._

 _Mr Fredbear clenched his teeth, "I am not being selfish!" he shouted angrily. The two partners glared at each other for a long time. Finally, Mr. Violet placed his hands up. "All right, let's just stop this argument. There's no point in getting angry at each other. We are not selling the animatronics. They are for Barton's circus. All right? You said so yourself, 'they aren't for sale."_

 _Mr. Fredbear huffed loudly, but gradually began to breathe normally and loosen his fists. His red face went down a couple lighter shades till it was back to its normal color. "...All right..." he muttered. Mr. Violet nodded. "No harm done...now...let's get back to work, Mr. Barton wants these animatronics done soon. They are going to be performing first thing tomorrow morning," he said._

 _Mr. Fredbear silently nodded. With that the two went back to work on the four animatronics, checking and making sure everything was still working properly and nothing was out of place or off balance. During the rest of the day and even into the night, neither of them talked to one another..._


	16. Chapter 16: Haunted Houses

Mechanical

Chapter 16: Haunted Houses

...

* * *

...

It was near the end of the day. Mr Fredbear and Emily still stood in Emily's apartment at the table, still trying to figure everything out. Mr. Fredbear reread the puzzling paragraphs and confusing sentences. Over and over his eyes darted from left to right, and sometimes right to left. He leaned back and sighed loudly as he removed his glasses from his weary eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Emily stood, reading the files of the case. She looked up when she noticed Mr. Fredbear leaning back in his chair, exhausted.

"How are you feeling, Freddy? Do you need another cup of coffee?" she asked just as she started heading towards the kitchen again to prepare him another cup. Mr. Fredbear shook his head. "No...No thank you, Emily. I'm fine," he said. Emily stopped in her tracks and came back over to him. "You doing alright? Do you want to take a break?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear shook his head again. "I should...But I can't...I...I can't...I need...I need to figure this out...all of this..." he said as he pointed to the book. "I still need to get through this. I haven't gotten through anything..." his tired voice faltered and his eyes fluttered shut for a minute.

He opened his eyes when Emily sighed and spoke up.

"I wish we knew how to find him. Know where he was located...Is there anything else in the journal? Any other clues?" Emily asked hopefully. Mr. Fredbear flipped through the pages. When he did, a slip of paper fell out. Mr. Fredbear picked it up and looked at it. Emily gazed down at the paper. "What is it?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear stared at it for a couple minutes.

"These are blueprints...of a house...with a basement..." he said. Emily gave him a look. "What do you mean? Most houses have basements," she said. Mr. Fredbear slowly shook his head and turned the blueprints over for her to look at. "Not ones big enough to fit animal robots in," he said. Emily's eyes widened when she saw an image of an enormous room filled with sketches of animatronics, just underneath the sketch drawing of the two story house.

"Oh God...no..." she said with her hand over her mouth.

"Who's house is that? Could it be Mr. Violet's?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear shrugged. "Most likely it is. Wouldn't be surprised. I never knew he got a house...or it might be his parents house..." he guessed. Emily sighed. "Well, either way, it's not leading us anywhere...I feel that the house might be a huge clue...if only there were some way we could find the address. Or even ask for the address..." she said. Mr. Fredbear thought of her last two sentences.

 _Ask for the address..._

Mr. Fredbear's eyes widened. He turned to Emily excitedly. "That just might work!" he said. Before Emily could ask what he was talking about, Mr. Fredbear walked over to the phone and picked up the ear piece. Emily came up to where he stood and waited patiently right when Mr. Fredbear got a hold of an operator. " Hello, I would like to see if you could tell me if you could give me the line or address to a William Violet?" he asked.

The female operator was silent for a moment. "...No, sir. I don't see any last names with Violet on here. Mr. Fredbear felt his heart skip a beat. No last names with the name Violet? How could that be? Was Mr. Violet really dead? Or was he pretending to be dead? Maybe he didn't want people to know that he was still alive? Mr. Fredbear closed his mouth as he racked his brain. It was hard to think under pressure. He needed to figure out if Mr. Violet was still alive. He might have been going under a different name, but what would he go under...

Mr. Fredbear blinked when he remembered a small conversation he and William had those handful of years ago. It was a small memory, but it was a memory Mr. Fredbear remembered:

 _"...My middle name is Fathnor. I was told I got the middle name from a very good friend of my father...but the anagram for my name is...Wilheilm Alvitor Afton." Mr. Fredbear blinked in surprise at the name, but couldn't help but to chuckle._

 _"If you decided to leave and change your name, would you would be ok being called that?" he laughed. Mr. Violet grinned and shrugged. "It's not a bad name. What's wrong with being addressed as Mr. Afton?" he asked. Mr. Fredbear smiled shook his head._

 _"Not at all. It's a fine name," he said..._

Then it hit him and Mr. Fredbear looked up, lifting the receiver back up to his mouth.

"What about...Afton?...W-William Afton?" Mr. Fredbear asked. The operator lady was silent for a moment as she looked for the name. "...Yes. There is an Afton. William Afton," she answered him. Mr. Fredbear felt his blood run cold as he breathed in. So he really was alive. Where had he been hiding all these years? What happened to him?

"Could you give me the address of Mr. Afton's place?" he asked hopefully. It took a while for the operator to give him the address. He quickly wrote it down on a scrap of paper. "Thank you," he told her and hung up. He turned and stared at Emily standing a couple feet away.

"He's changed his last name to Afton," he answered. Emily got up from the couch. "He he living nearby?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear looked down at the address. "I don't know...I am not familiar with the place. Hopefully one of the carriages will know where it is," he replied.

...

* * *

...July 12, 1865...

...

 _For the past several weeks, Mr. Fredbear and Mr. Violet stayed on opposite ends of their work stations. They barely interacted. Mr. Fredbear asked for the oil can to oil Foxy up again. Mr. Violet silently handed it over to him without even looking at him. When Mr. Fredbear accepted it, he stared at it for a second before putting it down and looking over at his partner. "Allright, this has to stop."_

 _Mr. Violet didn't even look at him as he continued working. "What do you mean?" he asked. Mr. Fredbear gestured to Mr. Violet. "This! Us not talking to each other!" he raised his voice. Mr. Violet continued working and adverting his eyes. "I'm just deep in my work. I don't know what you are all upset about," he continued, acting all innocent._

 _Mr. Fredbear tried making eye contact with Mr. Violet, but he wouldn't. Mr. Violet even stopped talking to Mr. Fredbear, irritating the man even more. Just then, Mary came into the workshop._

 _"Hi, daddy," Mary said happily as she came up to her father. Mr. Violet smiled, ignoring Mr. Fredbear as he picked his daughter up into his arms. "How is my big girl doing today?" he asked her, smiling. Mary was about to answer him, but then her smile faded as she looked over Mr. Violet's shoulder at something in the workshop._

 _Mary stared at the hidden figure that she noticed and pointed. "What's that? she asked. Mr. Violet's smile disappeared. "What's what?" he asked. He turned around and found that she was pointing at the figure under the bolt of fabric, used as a cover._

 _Mr. Fredbear noticed it as well, puzzled as to how he never noticed it before. He lifted the ends of the cover and with a flick of his wrist, he removed the fabric that was hiding the item underneath. It was an animatronic. Mr. Fredbear stared at the animatronic. Stunned. It was hideous. It was another sort of animal. Similar to Foxy. A wolf? Possibly. It had sharp teeth and menacing eyes. Mr. Fredbear turned around fast and glared at Mr. Violet._

 _"You've been working on an animatronic without me?" Mr. Fredbear to Mr. Violet. Mr. Violet scoffed. "Oh, and your freakish side puppet one doesn't count? You were working on that one before I started this one," he pointed out._

 _Mr. Fredbear shrugged. "It's just a side project." Mr. Violet narrowed his eyes a little as he held Mary in his arms and stared at the lanky puppet in the corner. "Well it's hideous," he remarked. Mr. Fredbear narrowed his eyes angrily. "Oh, and yours isn't? It looks like a nightmare for children," he shot back. Mr. Violet placed Mary down and whispered to her to go outside and play. Mary looked over to Mr. Fredbear, then her father one last time before leaving the workshop. Once she was gone, Mr. Violet continued._

 _"I never liked your puppet...it looks like its always...thinking...also I swear I have seen it move on its own..." Mr. Violet said. Mr. Fredbear couldn't help but to laugh. "I think you need to take a step outside. You have been cooped up inside this tent for too long," he joked. Mr. Violet wasn't laughing. "And you haven't?" he asked. "When was the last time you saw the sun? When was the last time you slept? You have dark circles under your eyes," he pointed out._

 _Mr. Violet glared, causing the dark circles under his eyes to darken even more. To Mr. Fredbear, he looked more dead than alive. Mr. Fredbear cleared his throat and turned away. He could still feel Mr. Violet glaring at him from behind. "You know why I work hard, Fredrick...it's all for Mary. So she could have a nice life. So she can be happy."_

 _Mr. Fredbear stopped and turned back to Mr. Violet. Mr. Violet continued. "I am tired of living in our small tent. I want her to live in a real house, and sleep in a real bed, and eat good food. She deserves better than this crappy place!" Mr. Violet snapped angrily. Mr. Fredbear opened his mouth slightly, then decided against it. Mr. Violet gestured to Mr. Fredbear. "You have nothing! You don't have a family to call our own, you don't have a daughter or a son. You have no one-" he said._

 _"You don't think I care about you and Mary?! I care about both of you! I considered you my family! Mary is like a daughter to me! I treat her with respect and allow her to come in and play with our creations..." he paused for a moment when he found himself turning to the creepy wolf animatronic Mr. Violet had been working on. The terrifying one. The one that looked like children's nightmares...it didn't look like something that was made for the circus._

 _"What exactly do you plan on doing with that wolf animatronic, Will?" he asked slowly. William was silent for a moment. Mr. Fredbear narrowed his eyes a little. "William..." he started. William's eyes flickered behind his goggles. "...I thought about what General Carson said...and...I'm making him an animatronic..." he admitted. Mr. Fredbear felt the blood drain from his face. "You what..?" he asked, shocked at what he was hearing. William clenched his teeth and turned his head to the side. "I need the money, Fredrick! Like I told you. I can't be here anymore..." William turned his focus back to his friend. "I can't..."_

 _Mr. Fredbear glared at his friend in rage. "Do you know what Carson is going to do with that animatronic?! He's going to use it to kill innocent people! Animatronics aren't made to kill innocent people!"_

 _"_ Your _animatronics...not mine...and what's the difference? People kill people...why can't animatronics? Just less emotion to work with. Animatronics can't feel love or hate...And maybe this will help for the future..." William said. Mr. Fredbear couldn't believe what his friend was saying. His words sounded so cold._

 _Mr. Fredbear clenched his fists. "I can't let you do that!" he shouted. William's tinted goggles caught the light, causing the lenses to fill up with light, reminding Mr. Fredbear of the animatronics' eyes. "How are you going to stop me, Fredbear? I have already talked to General Carson...I have also gave him one of our animatronics to him- Oh don't look so surprised-It's one of our first ones. I fixed him up a little to appeal to The General.." Mr. Fredbear's mouth hung open._

 _He already sold an animatronic to the General..._ Mr. Fredbear's rage boiled in his veins.

 _Mr. Violet continued as he pointed to the wolf animatronic. "...Once I'm done with this one...I'll collect my money and me and Mary will finally be on our way."_

 _Mr. Fredbear couldn't take it anymore. Mr. Violet had already crossed the line. "No!"_

 _With that, he grabbed the wrench and swung it at William. The end of the wrench made contact with William's cheek. William's goggles flew off of his face as he staggered back and crashed into the boxes of supplies, causing spools of thread, nails, buttons, glitter, and other items to go flying everywhere. Glass jars were shattered, threads and yarn were unwound, papers were set in flight or crumpled, and spare robotic parts were bent or cracked, causing the wires to become exposed._

 _Mr. Fredbear gasped in horror and dropped the wrench. "Oh God...William..." he said as he quickly came up to his partner. The side of William's face was bleeding. Mr. Fredbear picked up his partner's goggles and tried handing them to him. Mr. Violet took them away from him and placed them back over his eyes._

 _When Mr. Fredbear tried offering a hand to him, William roughly shoved Mr. Fredbear's hands away as he got himself up. His purple vest was torn and his hair was a mess. William brushed the glitter and buttons off of the front of his vest. Mr. Fredbear quickly got out his handkerchief and handed it to him to stop the blood._

 _"I am so sorry, William I...I let my anger get to myself. I'm so sorry," he said. William didn't accept his handkerchief, nor even look at him. Mr. Fredbear watched as the blood trailed down from Mr. Violet's right eyebrow, around his eye, and down the side of his face. William didn't even bother to wipe the blood away as he calmly walked towards the exit of the workshop._

 _Mr. Fredbear tried following after him, begging for him to stop, but Mr. Violet wouldn't listen. Once Mr. Fredbear caught up to him and placed his hand on his shoulder, Mr. Violet turned around and socked Mr. Fredbear right in between his eyes. Mr. Fredbear felt the impact of the hit, and the pressure of his glasses against his eyes, and the glass cracking under Mr. Violet's knuckles. Mr. Fredbear found himself falling backwards, until his back made contact with the ground._

 _Mr. Fredbear groaned in pain as he slowly sat upright and placed his hands over the area where he got hit. Blood flowed out of his nose and onto his shirt. Mr. Fredbear felt the pieces of glass from his glasses break from the metal rims and onto his lap._

 _He struggled to look up at his friend. William glared down at Mr. Fredbear with pure anger. His arms were tensed up at his sides and his hands were curled up into fists. Mr. Fredbear's blood was seen on one of the fists. William bared his teeth at Mr. Fredbear. "Oh, I'm sorry, I guess I let my anger get to myself as well..." he said in a harsh, mocking tone._

 _Mr. Fredbear stared up at him, trembling. The light filled William's goggles on his face, giving his eyes a inhuman look. "...Goodbye, Mr. Fredbear..." with that, he turned away and disappeared through the huge tent flap. Mr. Fredbear stayed there on the floor for what seemed like hours. Mr. Fredbear stared down at the ground as tears came down and mixed into the dirt under him._

 _Just then he felt a huge hand on his shoulder. He turned his head and found Freddy looming over him. Behind the bear were Bonnie, Chica and Foxy. Mr. Fredbear wiped the tears from his bleeding face and smiled a small sad, smile up to them..._

 _..._

* * *

...

It took Mr. Fredbear and Emily an hour and a half to ride out to the outskirts of town and along the dark, twisting narrow path around hills and over rickety bridges to Mr. Violet's house. The sky had darkened, but was lit up by the moon. Emily gazed outside, looking up at the stars.

"The stars are quite beautiful," she responded softly. Mr. Fredbear glanced out for a second before nodding his head. "Yeah...I have never stopped to consider..." he admitted. He really meant it. Years of always working, being indoors most of the time. He never quite stopped to rest and to go outside to enjoy them.

Once their carriage stopped. Mr. Fredbear paid the driver before getting out. Emily got out first. Her boots crunched against the dry dirt and dead leaves from underneath her. Mr. Fredbear came down from the carriage just behind her and looked up at the house.

The house was more of a mansion. It was painted a dark purplish color, and the paint looks like that it was peeling. The outside of the two story house looked worn and abandoned from the harsh weather; as if no one had lived in it for years. Cobwebs hung in the corners in the upper portions of the doorway. A leafless oak tree stood near it. Its twisted black limbs arched near the house, casting eerie shadows across the house.

Mr. Fredbear looked down at the address again. "Are you sure this is right?" he asked, turning to the carriage driver. The man who hadn't spoken a word to them nodded his head from his seat. "Yup. I've been down this road a dozen times and have seen that same house. Never usually have seen anyone go in...though I have to say...I do think the house is haunted...I hear strange sounds come from it every so often..."

His horse shook its head in a nervous manner. The driver patted the side of the dark horse's neck. "Easy girl," he said softly. Then he straightened up and glanced back over at the two. "I ain't waiting around any longer. I don't want to see any ghosts come out of that haunted house...no sir...You two are on yours own."

With that, he tipped his hat to Emily and Mr. Fredbear, then whipped the worn leather reins and was off back down the narrow road and back to town. Mr. Fredbear sighed and turned back to Emily, who had already walked up to the house and was already looking in to one of the dusty windows in the front of the house.

"I don't think anyone is home," Emily pointed out in a soft voice. Mr. Fredbear frowned as he came up next to her and peered in himself. He could barely see inside. He stopped looking in and flicked aside the ends of his coat to his inner pockets. "That's not stopping me from going into his house," he said as he pulled out a set of tools. Then he moved over to the door and went down on one knee and began to work.

He moved the tool around in the lock for a while till he heard a soft click and smiled to himself. "Got it," he said as he got up and opened the door. The door yawned open with a couple creaks from the rust and revealed the dark insides of the house.

The inside of the house was dark and unwelcoming. A slight chill blew through the house, making Mr. Fredbear shudder. Emily pulled out a candle and a match. She struck the match and lit the end of the candle. Mr. Fredbear took it and lead the way. A small flight of stairs went up to the second floor, but Mr. Fredbear was too afraid to venture up there.

The rooms didn't have a lot of furniture. Faint light came in through the windows. Dusty rugs shifted underneath them, causing dust to come up. Mr. Fredbear carefully walked down the hallway and looked around at the doors. Some were closed, others yawned open into darkness. Mr. Fredbear checked some, but only found empty rooms. Mr. Fredbear decided to look for the basement door. He turned to Emily.

"Let's split up and look for the basement door," he said. Emily nodded silently. She pulled out another candle. Mr. Fredbear used the flame on his to light Emily's candle. With that, the two went around to the opposite sides, down two different hallways, looking for the basement door. When they finally reached the end that connected the hallways, they stopped and faced each other.

"Did you have any luck on your end?" Mr. Fredbear asked. Emily shook her head. "No. You?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear shook his head as well. "No," he replied. He was quiet for a moment when he saw something shining behind Emily against the wall. "What?" asked Emily. Mr. Fredbear didn't answer as he went up to the wallpaper pattern. There was a door, blended in to the wallpaper. The only thing that stuck out was the shiny brass doorknob.

"...I wonder what is behind this door..." Mr. Fredbear said to himself as he went up to it. Emily stared at where Mr. Fredbear was looking, before turning her focus to Mr. Fredbear.

"What door?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear pointed to the door he was in front of. His other hand gripped the brass knob. "This door," he said before opening it. The door yawned open into darkness. Mr. Fredbear stretched his arm into the pitch black. Wooden stairs appeared, descending down. The basement. Mr. Fredbear glanced over to Emily before taking a breath and going down the stairs. Emily followed after him.

Mr. Fredbear shined a light down a set of stairs that disappeared into the darkness. Mr. Fredbear made sure Emily was still behind him before going down the creaky wooden steps.

Once they got to the bottom, Mr. Fredbear felt for a switch. He flicked it on and the room lit up. The basement was huge. More like a laboratory for a mad scientist. There were multiple operating tables, glass tubes, extra animatronic parts. Mr. Fredbear looked around for a moment till he realized that it looked very similar to the secret lab that was under the building he nearly died in.

Mr. Fredbear felt sick to his stomach as he continued looking around. He stopped when he saw on one of the farthest operating tables, multiple bodies of dead children. Each child were strapped down. Above was the strange machine he also remembered seeing. The one with a million tubes twisting and snaking out from it.

The bodies of the children were the ones who had gone missing. Emily and Mr. Fredbear had found them. In the back, against the wall, were animatronics. The animatronics were unfamiliar to Mr. Fredbear. Except one. The wolf.

Emily stared in horror at the sight in front of her. "What kind of sick person are we dealing with...?" she asked. Mr. Fredbear didn't answer as he stared at the wolf animatronic. Suddenly, he heard a sound behind him, he spun around and looked up to the top of the staircase.

An thin, wrinkly old man sat at the top of the staircase in a metal wheelchair filled with tubes and weird medical devices hooked up to the old man. The old man's face was ghost white and his eyes looked dark and hollow.

"William..." Mr. Fredbear breathed out, staring in horror at what appeared to be his friend...only his friend looked more dead than alive. Mr. Violet's steel cold dark eyes stared down at Mr. Fredbear, then smiled, revealing a disgusting row of long, yellow, crooked teeth.

"Hello...Fredrick..." he wheezed in a raspy voice, causing the pump to move up and down, giving him air for his lungs. "It's...been a...while..." he continued.

...


	17. Chapter 17: Family Reunion

Mechanical

Chapter 17: Family Reunion

...

* * *

...

Mr. Fredbear stared at his old friend at the top of the stairs in disbelief. He couldn't believe it. Right there on the top of the stairs was Mr. William Violet himself. Mr. Fredbear felt trapped in Mr. Violet's cold stare; like a mouse cornered by a cat. He couldn't move. Emily stood frozen as well, not able to say or do anything.

Mr. Violet smirked, causing his smile to crack and stretch upward even more, giving him a look that was more animal than human. He coughed violently soon afterward, causing the tubes, pump and oxygen tank on his custom made wheelchair to work harder to keep the frail old man from dying.

"You...finally...showed up...I thought...you would...have...died...Such a...shame" William wheezed, placing his shaking, bony hand over his wrinkly face and hacking into it. Saliva and a weird dark fluid dripped through the old man's thin fingers. Mr. Violet looked more like a withered skeleton in the strange wheelchair.

Mr. Fredbear was finally able to move once Mr. Violet's dark eyes had turned away, breaking the spell. The toy maker spoke. "William...You're alive? Why...why didn't you tell me?" he was able to muster. William stopped coughing and glared down at his old former friend. The shadows that clung to his bony face was like a misshapen horrific skull.

Mr. Fredbear stared back, half terrified, and half anxious for his friend to explain himself. Slowly, Mr. Violet spoke, each like a knife piercing the toy-maker's chest. "Why...would I...want...you...to know...I was...still alive?" he asked coldly. "Do you...think...I would...want you...to see me...like this...?" he asked, gesturing to himself.

"Because I am your friend, William," Mr. Fredbear said. William shook his head, still holding the same glare. "...Not...anymore," he said. The words hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity. Mr. Fredbear felt so hurt and ashamed. "I'm so sorry for what happened between us, William. I truly am."

William scoffed at Mr. Fredbear's words. "You...are not...sorry. Your...words...are filled...with...lies..." he said. Mr. Fredbear's eyebrows narrowed. "How could you say that? After all we had been through together. Why are you doing this? What made you turn like this?" Mr. Fredbear asked. Mr. Violet hacked and coughed, more dark liquid dripping out of his mouth. Some spattered onto the wooden stairs in front of Mr. Fredbear and Emily.

Finally, the old man spoke again.

"You are...the one...who...made me...do this..." he explained. Mr. Fredbear stared at Mr. Violet in confusion. "Me? Why? Why did you try framing me? For all the missing children? For stealing my animatronics? Why did you do this to me?!" he shouted angrily. Mr. Violet simply sighed and shook his head. The pumps and tubes behind him trembled as if they were shaking in fear.

"You...are such... an intelligent man...I can't believe...you can...be...so blind...at something...so obvious..." Mr. Violet said slowly in a dark tone. That pissed Mr. Fredbear off. "Obvious? How is your madness obvious?!" his voice raised.

Mr. Violet made a weird sound. At first Mr. Fredbear thought that the frail man was coughing again, but then he realized soon after that his old friend was laughing at him. Mr. Fredbear narrowed his eyes at the man in the purple attire in annoyance. Emily nervously rubbed her arm next to Mr. Fredbear.

Finally, Mr. Violet gradually stopped laughing and spoke.

"I can't believe...you never...figured it out...Fredrick," wheezed William.

Mr. Fredbear clenched his teeth and balled his hands into fists. "What are you talking about?" he shouted this time. "Why are you still keeping everything closed up with me?! Just tell me, or I'm gonna-" he started, but Mr. Violet interrupted him mid sentence.

"Once you knew... that I was behind this whole plan...You should have thought... of my love for anagrams," he replied. Mr. Fredbear threw his hands up. "I did! That was how I was able to find you in this place," he said. Mr. Violet shook his head. "I didn't...just use it...for you to find me..." he added. He pointed a shaky finger at Emily.

"Emily Tarov...is not who you think she is...she didn't... even know either..." he added. Mr. Fredbear looked over to Emily. Emily didn't even look at the toy-maker, she stared up at William. The lights in the room started to flicker a little.

Mr. Fredbear thought of Emily's name in his head and scrambled the words around. The words jumbled and moved around until they finally came together into a whole new, and familiar name.

Mary Violet.

"Your daughter? I don't understand...Emily is actually Mary?" he asked, turning to Emily. Emily didn't look at him as he turned back, catching William's gaze.

"No...Emily is a robot...of my creation...the real Mary... Violet died years ago...because of... your creation..." Mr. Violet explained. Mr. Fredbear felt the blood drain from his face. Emily...was a robot this whole time? Mary...William's little girl...was dead?

"My creation?" Mr. Fredbear asked, turning back to Mr. Violet. William nodded slowly. "After...our little...fight...Mary and I left...the camp...and went out...to look...for a new place...to live...A couple months later...we settled into...our new home...One night...I heard my little girl scream...I came rushing out...and your creation...the yellow rabbit...Springtrap...you used to call it...had taken the...life of my daughter...Mary...Violet..." he explained.

Mr. Fredbear's face blanched at the sound of that name. The yellow rabbit. The yellow nightmare.

"Springtrap."

"She died instantly...she would have looked... just like Emily here today," he said gravely as he gestured to Emily/Mary. Mr. Fredbear stared at them both in disbelief. He couldn't believe it. This whole time. He was being played. The whole thing was a game, and he played right into it.

Emily/Mary turned to Mr. Fredbear. Tears sprang to her eyes. "I didn't know," she said. Mr. Fredbear didn't know what to say. He stared at the girl he took as a friend. She looked so real. A robot. Mr. Fredbear looked down at the ground, adverting his eyes from her.

"So the whole "secret organization" Emily was part of, was fake...as well as the weird things happening at all those factories," Mr. Fredbear said. William nodded. "The secret organization... Mary was part of was indeed fake...but the tragic events at Blackpool's, and Milton's...were all true. All my doing... I...sabotaged the two factories...so I...could work with extra, advanced parts...and be able to create Mary," he added, his British accent full of pride.

Now Mr. Fredbear understood. He remembered Emily/Mary mentioning to him how the two competing factories were now able to create human like robots...and how they were able to walk and talk like real humans. Mr. Violet created her, during the time he was ruining the business of the two factories; framing them, and taking their customers' children...all for what?

Mr. Violet coughed violently, causing his whole body to jolt and rattle in the rustic wheelchair. Gradually the coughs became distorted laughs. He laughed at Mr. Fredbear for finally realizing the truth. Mr. Fredbear curled his hands into fists. He gritted his teeth and slowly turned his head up to the ghost-like man in the wheelchair.

"I've had enough of this!" Mr. Fredbear shouted as he started to storm up the creaky wooden stairs. Mr. Violet didn't even flinch when the portly toymaker raced up the steps. "I wouldn't...do that...if I were...you," Mr. Violet said calmly. Mr. Fredbear didn't even acknowledge his words, nor did he acknowledge the lights in the room starting to flicker more.

Suddenly, it appeared. It took Mr. Fredbear off guard, he almost fell backwards, and all the way back down the steps. His right foot went back, thankfully landing on the step behind him. Mr. Fredbear arched his back backwards on instinct, to not get close to the animatronic that now stood before him.

Springtrap. Mr. Fredbear almost didn't recognize it, all disgusting and filthy. It was two feet taller than him. Its eyes were gone, but inside were new eyes. Familiar eyes. It took a moment for Mr. Fredbear to realize that someone was in the suit. "...Detective Brown," he said, not in a question. The detective inside the suit chuckled from inside, revealing his real teeth from inside the yellow suit.

"Ah I see... you have met my son," William said. "The one behind all the murders," Mr. Fredbear said, he figured all along, but he never thought for him to be related to William. Mr. Fredbear felt sick to his stomach. All this time. From the very beginning. William's son. Inspector Brown. Framing him.

"I...I never knew you had a son, William," said Mr. Fredbear finally. Mr. Fredbear arched his upper body away from the massive metal creature. The wolf growled a metallic growl deep within its clockwork body. "...I also never knew your son would follow in your madness," he added under his breath. The tall detective/Springtrap growled and grabbed Mr. Fredbear by the neck. Emily gasped and placed her hand over her mouth. William barked at his son to put the portly toymaker down.

Mr. Violet's son did as he was told.

"I must say..." continued Mr. Violet from behind Springtrap. "If it weren't for you...and your Springtrap...I would never...have been inspired..." he added. Mr. Fredbear kept his eyes fixed on the Yellow Nightmare, too terrified to move or say anything. William continued to talk. "For all of this..." Mr. Fredbear imagined William gesturing towards all the madness within the basement.

"It was your creation's murder...to inspire me to do all this...It was why I stole all those children... To try and bring my little girl back. She was everything to me. I couldn't go on without her. That's when one night, right when I was about to give it all up...I came up with the brilliant idea...to bring her back. Years I spent working on a solution to bring her soul back... Sacrificing everything...even my own body..."

"The missing orphans," Mr. Fredbear said. William nodded, as he continued.

"All I needed was a body. A functional body for her...My hatred towards you grew, as well as my respect, for somehow being able to create such amazing work, your sister...I heard her voice from inside Springtrap. I was able to clean it out and let my son here to use it to his own benefit..."

Mr. Fredbear's ears perked up from William's words. "Camille?" he asked. William nodded.

"Years I spent trying to do the same thing you did... So many murders followed afterward. So many failures. My squeamishness towards the sight of blood soon faded away... and I was able to focus more on my goal: Bringing my daughter back to me..."

"You sick twisted bastard!" shouted Mr. Fredbear, but stayed put as Springtrap growled once more. William didn't even flinch from behind the metal bunny. He just sat there in his wheelchair.

"Sacrifices... needed to be made, Fredrick...You of all people should know that..." William said. Mr. Violet's son's eyes seemed to glow from within the suit as he stared down at Mr. Fredbear. Mr. Fredbear gulped nervously and took another step back down the stairs.

Eventually he came all the way back down and back to Emily. William told his son in the suit to move aside. His son did, going behind his father and standing there in the shadows. A golden guardian. Then Mr. Fredbear could see his old friend, now enemy at the top of the stairs again. This time grinning with all his crooked teeth.

"Now, Fredrick...you and I...are going to work...on one last project together...before I kill you..." William Violet said before hacking into his handkerchief once more. More black fluid dripped into the handkerchief, till the white fabric looked more dark grey.

"You are going to help me...bring Mary back...put her soul...in a new body...and then...you are going to help me...transfer my soul...into Wolfie..." he pointed over to the creepy dark blue wolf in the back of the huge lab. He turned back to Mr. Fredbear and grinned evilly. "...Then I will have my daughter back...and with my new, impenetrable body...I will be unstoppable...powerful...Immortal..."

Mr. Fredbear and Emily/Mary stood close to each other, trembling in total fear.

Behind Mr. Violet, William Jr. laughed a slow, hollow laugh from within the Springtrap suit...

...

 **A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I am very slow in submitting this chapter. I have a lot of things I am working on, but don't worry, I am still working on this. I am not going to leave this fanfic unfinished. Rest assured. No matter how long it takes me. I'm guesstimating around two more chapters left for this one so hang tight! Thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter.**

 **Bat13SJx, signing out.**


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